A Place Of Her Own
by Aman'mai
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.
1. Foundations

A/N: Ok, so this is my first AU fic so tell me what you think, ks? Read and Review! That's what your supposed to do when you read one of these things, remember? Plus, it's alliterative like Fan Fiction! And that's always a good thing, isn't it?  
  
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Title: A Place Of Her Own.  
  
Chapter: Foundations  
  
Author: Aman'mai  
  
Rating: PG-13, for some violence. A warning for some, I was in a black mood when I wrote this but it will get a bit more happier (Whoa! Grammar check goes crazy on that one) in the next few chapters.  
  
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nat faced the constable in front of her.  
  
"We just want to help you, Nat. That's all. Now tell me. Where do you live?"  
  
"I don't live," answered Nat simply.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She was 13. Her father came into the house swearing and holding a bundle of cloth.  
  
"The damn woman died, just like your own mother did. Here," he thrust the bundle into her arms, "you take care of it. I'm off to the pub. They want a bloody funeral, they want to give me the body, and they want the world! They want to give me the kid and I won't bloody well have it. You take it. Go chuck it in the river for all I care."  
  
Her father slammed the door behind him and Natalie looked down at her new baby brother.  
  
"Thomas," she whispered. "You can be called Thomas."  
  
She held him close to her body and sat down in the armchair by the window, watching the rain gently fall, and listening to the incessant pit-patter of it hitting the badly made tin roof. The baby began to cry in her embrace.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Where are your parents, girl?" asked the constable, "You aren't helping us."  
  
"Dead . . ." she told them, then snorted, "for all I care."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
15.  
  
She was fifteen and she had horrors brought to life in front of her eyes.  
  
How could he have . . .? She shook her head. You did not question why he had done what he had done. No more than you questioned where he went or what he wanted or how he did anything at all. She shivered as she looked down at lifeless body. The lifeless, soaking body.  
  
Her body started to rack slowly with the smallest of trembles that soon brought her shaking with grief.  
  
He had . . . she had followed him. Carefully, she had followed. Silently. For two nights he had been away and by chance she saw him in the street, with a bundle of cloth. A very familiar bundle of cloth and her heart had skipped when she had seen it.  
  
He had . . . she had followed him to the riverbed.  
  
He had . . . she had heard the wailing sound of the newborn.  
  
He had . . . she had heard the wailing become muffled by the drunken fingers of her father close over the tiny rosebud lips.  
  
He had . . . she heard a shriek that was silenced by the lapping water as those drunken fingers pushed the bundle of cloth into the river.  
  
He had gone.  
  
And she had come to see what damage had been done.  
  
Two years ago, that might have been her brother. She felt sorry for the woman who had been stupid enough to thin her father had been decent.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It's been hard for you, hasn't it?" asked the cop, trying to go with the friendly, open attitude, "It's been tough over the years, hasn't it?"  
  
She glowered silently at him.  
  
"Living rough, living the tough life. It's not easy, eh?"  
  
"How would you know?" she said quietly, staring intently between his eyes. Right where the bullet would . . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Coming home, she didn't think of being late. All that consumed her mind was that fragile, newborn body of her sister.  
  
She had come out of her hiding place as soon as it was safe and had pulled the body from the bottom of the river. Vainly, trying to pump life into her sibling. Puffing and crying and trying so hard to bring life into the little body once more she gave out. Three hours she stayed, pouring her heart into this little girl she would never know.  
  
From the start, she had known it was useless. From the start, she had known there was nothing she could do. And ever since the start, she had known her father would always get his own way.  
  
"What are you doing home so late?" yelled her father from inside the house as she opened the door.  
  
A soft sobbing could be heard from the kitchen and her heart leapt into her throat..  
  
Her father strode in dragging along Thomas.  
  
His legs were wrong. They were twisted the wrong way and Thomas had silent streams of tears falling down his face, his face a multitude of colours from trying not to cry in front of his father and from his father's blows.  
  
"I told you I didn't know, pa. I told you . . ." whispered the boy.  
  
"Shut up!" yelled the man throwing the boy against the wall like a ragdoll, "You come here!"  
  
Nat walked to her father and had bruises that covered her for weeks.  
  
Thomas never walked again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I wouldn't know anything at all but for a four-five year old boy . . ." the constable trailed off and looked her in the eye. "He needs a good, secure home to grow up in with a good, solid education."  
  
She imagined the look on his face as he saw, in the last instant, his death coming at him at over 100 k's an hour. She sneered.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She was 16 with a three year old clinging onto her back.  
  
"Nat! Nat! Where dad, Nat?" the boy asked.  
  
"Somewhere else, ok? No, no, don't cry." She comforted her brother, "Shhh, it's going to be alright."  
  
They caught a bus around to the other side of the city and found a park, where they slept fitfully.  
  
The next few years were living hell, where their daily fights to survive consisted of begging, church shelters and soup vans.  
  
The young boy that she carried on her back in a heavy duty garbage bag earned her dirty looks from those ever so proper businessmen and women who hurried from place to place. From home to work and back again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Natalie, you can't just avoid us like this. Your brother needs to go to school in a few months. You can't ignore the law."  
  
"And what is the law doing about me?" she exploded, "It's not helping! I can't even afford to walk into a shop let alone buy something! Have you seen the looks people give me? I have had to fight and fight and fight and fight . . . you don't know the half of it! Why don't you leave us to live our own lives? We've done well enough for the last five years without you interfering and we'll carry on like this," she screamed until her lungs were fit to bursting. How dare this man assume that he could help her? How dare he assume that he knew what was best for her brother? How dare he?  
  
"Natalie . . ."  
  
"No! I won't hear another word from your slimy, disgusting mouth! I don't have to be here!" she stormed out, picking up Thomas in his bag and left the station.  
  
The constable shook his head.  
  
"That girl . . ." he said to the deputy, "she's got a lot of things coming her way. But she's a strong one. I only wish I could help her."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nat staggered slowly to the outskirts of the city. She would hitchhike out of here if she had too. She wouldn't let those snobby pigs come and take her brother away. Never would she let her Thomas go.  
  
Stumbling, she continued on her way to the safety of the woods.  
  
Her life would never be there for the taking and moulding of those who think they could do better. Never! This was her life. And her brother. She would care for him. She would . . .  
  
Her thoughts turned to the future as she continued on, her brother slipping further into her back as he got used to her methodical gait and snuggling so tight she felt as if she were choking.  
  
"Love you, Nat." he said.  
  
"Love you too, Tom." She whispered as he fell asleep.  
  
She continued on working her pace up a bit. They would not find them if they looked, she hoped. She wanted to get as far from the city and it's precious civilised lifestyles as soon as possible.  
  
**Four hours later**  
  
Tramping along the edge of the woods, she felt a bit of nervousness rise in her throat but soon turned onto an animal track, following it deeper into the forest until they could no longer see the city or it's lights.  
  
Slinging Thomas down on to a pile of leaves next to her, Nat dragged her coat around the two of them. Hugging him, she fell asleep there breathing synchronised with the harmonious whistling of the wind though the trees. 


	2. Dissipating

Disclaimer: No, Lord Of The Rings, however discomforting the fact might be, does NOT belong to me. Though, in Shaitan's new plan we will . . . 

SHUT UP!

Oops. Errrr . . . no plans for taking over the world and the human race (though essentially New Zealand, Lord Of The Rings Cast and any others that are . . . precioussss to ussss . . . heh heh)

Umm. Let's get on with it shall we?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  


Title: A Place Of Her Own.  
  
Chapter: Dissipating.  
  
Author: Aman'mai  
  
Rating: Up, up! Your answers shall come from above!  
  
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Nat woke up to her brother rocking her slowly.

"Naahhhhhht," he whispered, "Wake up! Please Nat! Come on!"

Nat rolled over.

"What's the matter?" but saw in the fear her brother's eyes.

"It's dad! He's . . . shouting a lot. And that big fat blue man is-"

Nat cut him off, picking him up and shoving him roughly in the bag.

"I'll be quiet," Tom whispered as he hugged her back, "The voices came from downhill and the fat blue man walked past a little while ago going that way," whispering into her ear and at the same time pointing to the right of her.

She set out going up hill slowly, looking for some place where she could hide and wait the search out. She would live here forever if that was the only way to keep Tom safe.

Ten minutes later, Nat's legs started to strain with the constant pace and steep hillside. She had to dodge through the trees and keep her feet steady on the rocky ground. Her brother held tree branches out of her way as she gradually made her way up.

Panting, she tried to calm her mind from the panic that had risen in her but the hindering undergrowth kept on interrupting her thoughts. Instead, she began to concentrate on the forest, listening to the woods around her and watching for any of the slightest disturbance that would betray her hunters.

Soon, her mind grew used to the rhythms of the forest as she trudged on and could safely assume that her father was blundering somewhere downhill from her.

Hours later she reached the top, outlined against the horizon she looked into the valley below, pausing to give her body rest from the punishing hike.

"OI!" a voice yelled from below her, "Mr. Parker! She's up here!"

Turning, she met the constable's eyes for a moment then took off at a run.

Stumbling down, Nat found it harder to stay upright while she skidded and slipped her way around trees and various bushes that threatened to trip her up. Trying to keep her brother from harm, she ducked and slid as she came across a fallen log.

Yells followed her, cursing and screaming at her to turn back.

Emerging on the other end, she found that she couldn't get up and continued to slide. She watched the greenery and the rocks that streamed past on either side of her while she crouched and twisted this way and that out of the way of obstacles in the path, but still sliding rapidly down the mountainside.

Her path suddenly turned away from her and she fell into a stream that only went halfway to her calves. Standing up, she waded quickly upstream, hoping that her pursuers would take the easier path.

By now her entire body was covered in mud and she knew her brother would be the worse for the wear. He had kept his promise, not making a single sound. None of them had, their fear of capture was too great. 

Wearily, she looked for a sheltered place nearby and spotted a low overhang about a metre from top to bottom on the high bank. She pulled her brother out of his bag and placed him in under the overhang and then crawled under herself.

Taking a few deep breaths she looked to her brother, "You 'k?" she asked. He nodded but turned around.

"What do you think's in there, Nat?" he whispered, the aspiring adventurer tried to drag himself deeper into the cave and was motioning to her, "Let's explore!"

"Tom. . ." Nat said, exasperated.

"We can hide real good here!" He seemed unfazed by the fact that they had just escaped from breaking every single bone in their body and were covered in mud from head to toe.

"Come _on_, Nat!"

"But it might be dangerous."

"Nah, it'll be fun! We can play horse!" he pushed on determinably ignoring her protests until she gave up and put him on her back once more. They needed to hide anyway; she did not think she could push herself much further.

Shuffling along, various roots dug into her knees and tangled her hair. The air was heavy and dank and she soon began to get cramped.

"Here's far enough," she said to her brother.

"No, no. A bit further, just a little bit. We need to hide really _really_ good," said her brother, urging her on with his hands.

She sighed and continued but soon her brother was lying flat on her back.

"Further . . ." Tom whispered to her.

She was on the floor and crawling now. She tried not to think of any snakes or bugs that were sliding up her legs and getting in her hair.

The walls had closed in tight and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her head began to pound.

_I need to get out_, she thought within her mind and the thought bounced off the cavities of her skull, her head rang with it.

"Come on, Nat . . ." her brother urged her, "You can do it . . . come _on_!"

But she couldn't. 

The world went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world blazed red.

Heat was overwhelming her. The smoke . . . 

She was choking, on her hands and knees, the world edging away from her.

Reality stopped.

It twirled into the darkness and then erupted in another burst of yellow, orange and the fiery red flames.

Then another darkness, swooping.

Arms, she remembered the strong arms lifting her. Holding her. Whispering . . . 

_It'll be alright, girl . . . come on, girl . . . easy does it, girl . . . that's right . . ._

Safe. She would be safe forever now.

Safe . . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black.

A darkness.

But strangely enough, it was a warm and comforting darkness. She uncurled from her foetus position.

_This is a dream_, she thought to herself as she looked around at the surrounding gloom. 

She floated softly and gazed upon the pinpricks of light in the distance.

_Stars of wonder . . . _she whispered in her mind.

One grew closer and closer. It's light preceding it. It grew brighter and illuminated her face.

Stars of wondrous beauty bright . . . 

She looked at her hand; it seemed to be glowing brilliantly. She reached out to the star as if to cusp it in her hand . . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dirty fingers scraped her neck. Greasy hair was slicked around her face and the slimy mouths of her attacker, uttering curses and profanities at her, pushed her down.

Hands hit her and gave bruises. Someone bit hard into her calf, while another pulled at her arm till she felt that it would break. Her lip bled and she tasted the blood. She glared with hatred at her attackers as they grinned toothlessly.

From the floor she was kicked and scratched as the men and women around her leered and ridiculed her.

One man stood apart, his eyes glittering. She was young, an easy catch.

His eyes watched her naked body twist away from the taunting gang. He grabbed her wrist and tried to drag her into the night. 

The man dragged her to an alley, dropping her on a pile of rubbish while he tried to unzip his jeans.

And then she was safe. The darkness returned, swift and sure. Hauling her assailant and then returning to lift her up once more, to protect her.

Safe . . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke with a start and tried to sit up, bumping her head doing so. A shower of dirt fell and got in her eyes.

_Tom! _She turned quickly to see but he was fine. Sleeping quite soundly too. She hated to wake him but she didn't want to have to stay there any longer and her feet were getting more than a little wet.

She stopped and wriggled her toes wildly. The water was seeping in slowly. She had to get moving. Twisting, she shook her brother awake.

"Can you help me get us out of here?" she asked.

He nodded and she told him what to do.

A quarter of an hour later they had managed to move a foot more into the tunnel.

She peered ahead into the darkness.

"I can't see much, Tom. Can we go back?"

"I don't think so, Nat."

She nodded and continued her struggle forwards. Hoping they wouldn't get stuck.

"Hey, Nat." said her brother softly.

"What?" she replied, still frantically scrabbling at the narrow walls.

"It's getting wet."

"I know, but we can fix that though."

"Not that fast."

"We will," she answered optimistically.

For a while they both worked in companionable silence, ignoring the water lapping at their knees.

"Hey, Nat." Tom said softly.

What?" she asked exasperated.

"How about you go first and then you turn around and get me? It'll be quicker."

"WHAT?" she yelled, loosening another escapade of loose soil, "I can't leave you here!"

"I can go on for a bit and I don't think we'll get stuck."

Nat craned her neck until she could get a good look at his face.

"Trust me, Nat."

"I'd never forgive myself if . . ." she caught the look in Tom's eye briefly and turned back to the task at hand.

"I won't," he said softly.

Nat moved forward as Tom slid off her back.

"I'll be back soon," she said.

"'k."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emerging from the dark tunnel after only ten minutes of wriggling, she turned back to call to her brother. 

"How are you going there?" she yelled down the tunnel, "It's not far to the end. I'll come in and help you out."

"Help me, Nat," he heard him say.

Taking off the thick over coat she had been wearing, and dropping it to the ground. She crawled back into the tunnel and found her brother wet up to his chest.

"Come on, Tom. Here we go . . ." heaving, she pulled him bit by bit out into the open air.

Curling her jacket around him, she looked around at the surrounding landscape and headed for what seemed to be the only proper shelter for miles around. 

The large hillside she headed for seemed to sport some ruins of a sort, though she knew there were none near the city . . . she must have travelled out further than she had thought. How long had she been asleep? 

Rain splattered her hair, which was studiously ignored by the siblings. 

When they had made it halfway to the top, she found a small cavern that dug into the side of the hill. Struggling inside it, she knew that for once she felt overwhelmingly safe.

Without a word they huddled against each other for warmth and held tight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This whole story so far is just Nat and her brother so far, but don't worry, we'll get there soon enough. Most stories plunge straight into it, but I want to take my time with it. People just don't show up at err . . . random places at any old time. There will always be a journey first.

AHEM

Oh yes, readers, Shaitan. Shaitan, the readers. No, he's not a muse, just a mini-evil. Like a mini balrog only a mini-overlord from Wheel Of Time (Robert Jordan). Oh yes, he's caps-locks stuck or something. He's got a thing with capitals.

*GLARE* ALL HAIL ME.

*coughsindiscreetly*

OH. REVIEWERS MUST REVIEW. REVIEWS ARE GOO- EVIL! YES, EVIL. EVIL REVIEWS ARE, ERM, EVIL! VERY EVIL! *GRINS* ALL MUST REVIEW AND BE EVIL- THUS YOU MUST FOLLOW ME.

ALL HAIL ME.

Erm, yes, whatever. Reviews are nice. I mean, not to be greedy or anything but one reviews great and all but another would be nice. _Really _nice.


	3. Encounters

A/N: And so I'm back . . . from outer space - no, just kidding. I'm glad all thirteen of you enjoyed the past two chapters and evidence of more appreciative fellow fic-cers would make me and Shaitan even more gladder. I take this moment to point out that spelling and grammar in the Author's Note are to go unheeded as most of you will probably just skim over this anyway. Ack, almost forgot:  
  
Disclaimer: My legions of evil penguins glare at me as I renounce all claim to J.R.R. Tolkien's great works in Lord Of The Rings. They share their resentments with me in the fact that Legolas is not my personal *coughs* . . . I'll stop there.  
  
Let's Begin:  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Encounters  
  
Rating: Repeating myself is not one of my most favoured hobbies, you know.  
  
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She was feeling wet, clammy and extremely groggy from lack of sleep. Her arms ached from where her brother had used them as a pillow the previous night.  
  
They had foraged for food on their way west and had drunk thirstily at any streams they had crossed. Nat had deliberated on following the streams earlier on but deemed it too difficult and dangerous. They did not know what dangers the plains held for them but surely these dangers would gather at the streams to drink at some point? Anyway, there was better shelter along the wide path which seemed clear and well-marked enough.  
  
Nat now hated herself for making that decision but pride forced her on. They had been travelling for a week and no sign of a road or any other type of civilization had presented itself. The path was getting rougher too, and Nat wasn't sure that her brother could keep going.  
  
Her jacket was ripped and hung loosely on her slight frame. Her jeans were muddy and the old runners she wore were beginning to lose their soles. Her brother's bag had held up well but signs of strain from the continuous weight had begun to show.  
  
Her feet trudged along. She had no strength or energy to continue, but days of putting one foot in front of another, ignoring the pain that coursed up through her legs and the fierce sun beating down, had taken its toll. All she knew was to keep going, to hold her brother high on her back and move forwards to whatever lay ahead.  
  
She looked up and ahead she saw a break in the road. A stone bridge spanned a mighty river that promised fresh water and a chance to rest. She stumbled into a run of sorts which jolted her brother awake.  
  
"Nat?" he asked blearily.  
  
"Shh, don't worry, I've found some water for us up ahead."  
  
Her throat was parched and dry so her reply was rasped lightly. Her throat ached with each breath now that she was aware of the state of her body.  
  
Staggering to the banks of the river she knelt and lifted Thomas out of his bag.  
  
"Drink," she told him and he plunged his hands into the cool water, bringing it to his lips and sighing in relief.  
  
After they had both quenched their thirst, Nat looked out across the river.  
  
"Thom! What do you say to pitching camp over there?" she said, pointing. The sun was still high in the sky but she doubted she would find a better spot which would hide them from any passers-by.  
  
Thom nodded amiably and wriggled back into his bag.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A few hours later the sun was setting and Nat had gotten a fire going. Her struggle for survival had taught her many things over the years. Fire had been the hardest over the last few days and the blisters on her hands from the last time she had tried to light a fire were bleeding heavily from rubbing the wood together. But she watched her work come to its fruition and stood proud by it.  
  
She grinned ecstatically about her accomplishment - hot food tonight! She couldn't remember the last time they'd had something to warm themselves with except for each other.  
  
Nodding to herself she looked around for Thom. But he was gone.  
  
"Tom?" she called tentatively and then again, much more loudly "Tom?"  
  
"Nat! Nat! There's fish in the river!" Thom yelled excitedly from the bank.  
  
Nat sighed with relief.  
  
"Come here, or you'll get a cold, I've got the fire ready," answered Nat gruffly, embarrassed that she'd not kept a proper eye on him. Still, she walked over to where her brother lay happily, dragging his hand in the water's currents which swirled around dragging debris downstream.  
  
She watched for a bit, silently, as her brother tickled the underbellies of the fish in the water. She smiled contentedly; this was what life with her brother should be - free, blissful and without worry.  
  
"How about some nice fish for dinner tonight, Thom?" she asked him jokingly.  
  
Thom nodded and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth, concentrating on the fish.  
  
Nat giggled as she watched him try to provide their dinner, she opened her mouth to tell him to get a move on.  
  
Nat stared as her brother flipped the fish expertly onto the ground beside him and grinned.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
His belly full, Thom had curled up to sleep beside Nat. He snored softly and snuggled closer every now and then.  
  
His older sister seemed to be having a bit of trouble lying down and going to sleep though; she worried about the dangers of the woods behind her and if she and Thomas would ever find a suitable place to stop, rest and make themselves a home.  
  
The adventure had been fun so far . . . a bit more difficult then she had expected but she had adapted, right? She could pull through, like she'd always done. Nothing could hold her back. And nothing would harm her brother. No danger would . . .  
  
But it wasn't the dangers that kept her from sleep.  
  
Those dreams haunted her. Every waking moment was plagued with her memories of them. Every time she laid her head down to rest the nightmares would consume her. Colours and symbols screamed at her as people of her past moaned in agony, their bodies twisted and maimed.  
  
Natalie shuddered and closed her mind to it all.  
  
They hammered at her, throbbing against her temples. She had to get away.  
  
Softly, she pushed Thom off her lap and stood to greet the moon.  
  
Its soft light played on her face as she took a step forward out of their sheltered cavelet.  
  
Downstream, she heard whistling. Startled, she turned her head and saw a pinprick of light in the distance. She made to go towards it but turned back to the sleeping form of her brother.  
  
'It won't take long, just a quick look,' she thought but she quickly pulled a few heavy branches over the entrance to the cave for safety and stamped out the remaining embers among the charcoal remnants of their fire.  
  
Slowly, she crept towards the fire and counted only one man sitting hunched over what seemed to be his dinner. She moved towards the undergrowth to come closer.  
  
Something under her foot cracked.  
  
The man stood without a sound, a slither of metal betrayed his unsheathing of his sword.  
  
He stood alert and on the balls of his feet, ready to attack anything that moved. His eyes glinted with the firelight and hardened as he tried to make out the gloom that surrounded him.  
  
Turning his head, he checked all directions but, certain the sound had come from upstream, he remained facing towards Nat's direction.  
  
She wanted to run, to hide and get away but she knew the slightest movement would have him attacking her without a second thought. She saw a hardened man, not unlike her father and for a minute she was afraid it was, but she assured herself that her father would never have bothered following her for a week.  
  
She hoped he wasn't some sort of sex-maniac or mass-murderer, hiding out in the woods alone.  
  
Grimacing, she called out.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
He held his sword a little higher.  
  
"Come out where I can see you," he whispered into the air softly.  
  
She walked out tentatively - keeping her eyes on the sword, waiting for it to lash out.  
  
"A woman?" he asked incredulously, lowering his sword slightly but then drawing it up again and glancing anxiously about him.  
  
Nat stood uncertainly before him and nodded slowly.  
  
"What do you be doing then, out in the wilderness?" he asked cautiously. She noted that he hadn't put down his sword.  
  
"I ran away," Nat replied stubbornly, but sensing his authority she added, "and I'm not going back."  
  
"From where?" he asked her. The flickers of his campfire illuminated his face and glimmered on his sword but the rest was in shadow. His eyes were everywhere except on her, waiting for an attack from a different front.  
  
"Why do you have a sword?" she asked him back, curious about his weapon, rather than avoiding his previous question.  
  
He looked back and raised his eyebrows at her, putting his sword back into his sheath slowly.  
  
"I doubt that you are a threat. Especially if you are so stubborn, naive and impolite," he chuckled to himself.  
  
Nat glared at the man but he merely turned away from her sitting to pick up his bowl which had some evidence of a half-eaten stew.  
  
"Sit down," he said.  
  
She looked back to where her brother lay sleeping and sensed no disturbance. She gingerly took a seat next to the bearded man.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked impatiently.  
  
He finished chewing and swallowed slowly, taking his time to answer her.  
  
"My name is Boromir, son of Denethor," he stopped suddenly and looked down at his plate. She tried to get a better look of his face but his lengthy, dark brown hair obscured his eyes. He had a neatly trimmed beard and a fairly prominent nose. He seemed to waiting for something from her.  
  
Nat nodded to herself, he should be alright since he hasn't attacked her yet.  
  
"I'm Natalie. But call me Nat, everyone else does."  
  
Boromir seemed surprised by something but bent back down over his meal.  
  
They sat in companionable silence as Boromir finished his stew off.  
  
"You have not heard of me? Nor of my father?" Boromir asked finally, wiping his beard of any excess dinner.  
  
"No . . . should I?"  
  
He waved his hand at her, dismissing the topic.  
  
"How long since you ran away?"  
  
"A week, or so. The pigs wanted to take . . ." she trailed off, aware of the man's intent stare.  
  
"Pigs?" he questioned her, eyes wide and surprised, "No, please continue."  
  
When she didn't, Boromir tried again.  
  
"Take . . . ?" he asked softly, urging her on and trying to capture her eyes in his to gain an answer.  
  
She met his stare.  
  
"I must get back to my own camp, I have stayed here too long," she got up abruptly and made her way out into the darkness.  
  
Boromir shrugged and stamped out his fire. He picked up his cloak and untied his horse and led it up to where he guessed Nat had made her camp.  
  
"I shall join you," he announced softly, "A woman should not stay out in the wilderness alone. These are troubled parts in troubled times; I would not want you to get hurt."  
  
"I am not alone," whispered Nat furiously.  
  
Nonetheless, Boromir tied his horse to a nearby tree and sat down next to the sleeping form of her brother.  
  
Noticing Thom, he glanced up surprised.  
  
"Your son?" he asked.  
  
Nat gave him a withering frown.  
  
"Your brother then . . . " he concluded.  
  
She did not take her eyes off him.  
  
"You can sleep," he gestured to a patch of grass, "I will keep watch tonight, you are weary."  
  
"I will be fine," she sneered, sitting down where he had indicated.  
  
"You are exhausted!" he hissed, "You mustn't push on like this!"  
  
"Who are you tell me what to do?"  
  
Boromir sighed and gazed at the stars above.  
  
"I am simply concerned, lady," he said quietly.  
  
Nat watched him for a while and sniffed loudly.  
  
She yawned and her eyes drooped.  
  
She struggled hard to keep them open but slid slowly to the ground next to Thomas. Her joints were getting stiff so she tried to stretch out her muscles slowly. Nat put her hands up to frame the stars above her and yawned slowly as the stars flickered at her. The moonlight bathed her face and she smiled as her brother next to her turned into her embrace.  
  
"You can sleep, Boromir," she said generously, "I'll keep watch, it's ok."  
  
Boromir continued to watch the woods.  
  
"I'm . . . not sleepy. I can," she yawned again, "stay up . . . all . . ."  
  
Boromir turned and smiled as Nat turned over and promptly fell asleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Whoa, that was long. I could have posted yesterday but I had a concert to swelter in. How can something be so prominent and not have air conditioning? Ah wells, hot spell's nearly over so there'll be storm soon. :D Yay!  
  
Oh yes, and Shaitan told me to pass on to you that he wants more reviews, yeah, 13 is his number of the millennia but he prefers more for my sake. *smiles happily at Shaitan who scowls*  
  
WHATEVER *CROSSES ARMS (?)*  
  
He's soooo cute, sometimes! 


	4. A Peripatetic

A/N: I don't know why but I really want to write another chapter now, only a day after I posted my last! I hope you all are appreciating this effort I'm making. Ooh! I wonder what I'll write next? No wait . . . Nah, actually I'll say the thank yous to all who have reviewed after I get this chappy done.  
  
*claps hands happily*  
  
Disclaimer: Lotr (the movie and the book *sigh) is not under any sort/type of possession of myself, my affiliates or my legions of evil penguins.  
  
*is not so happy no more*  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: A Peripatetic  
  
Rating: *sigh* Do I really need to go over this again?  
  
Summary: How about I do a summary for this chapter here? But then, that'll give the whole chapter away so I won't. Plus, you get some insight through the title of the chapter so. *shrugs* I think from now on, I'll only bother with the Title and Chapter thingy.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nat yawned and looked around, finding Boromir hunched over and still watching the woods.  
  
"You sleep while I make breakfast, you look like you need it," she told him and went about building up a fire from last night's coals.  
  
Boromir smiled gratefully, lay down and closed his eyes. Nat picked up the cloak he had thrown over her and her brother the previous night and offered it to him.  
  
"Thanks, but I'm ok. Your brother still sleeps."  
  
Nat shrugged and let it fall back over Thom's shoulders.  
  
Ten minutes later she had a fire going warmly.  
  
Nat stole another look at Boromir to check if he was completely asleep. Poking him gently, she realized the man had indeed stayed up all night to watch over them. She smiled gently.  
  
"Ah well, if life gives you lemons, take Life by the balls, squeeze and ask 'What else you got?'" she giggled to herself, and then added in a whisper, "Sorry, Boromir, but my brother's safety comes first. Always."  
  
She took a look in his saddlebags and found some of his left over rations. She separated a quarter to leave behind for him and put the rest back into the saddlebags. She then cast her eyes over the man's few possessions.  
  
"Hmm, a horn? Strange, but no I think . . . sword? No, too big. Ah, I'll take that, thank you very much," she picked out a dagger and tied the scabbard to her waist, "Hmm, a map!" She took out the yellowed map and studied it intently.  
  
She traced the road they had taken for the last week, the East-West Road. It came from a town called Bree to the west. She'd be damned if she headed back. Wait . . .  
  
"This map isn't right. There's no town called Bree near the city. There is no city marked here!" she whispered to herself but shrugged. She was going east and hopefully that part of the map would be correct, she cast her eyes down on the map again.  
  
She must be at the 'Last Bridge' since this seemed to be the only river on the map. So then, about a day away, she presumed was a forest which would take a week to get through walking, she mused, judging the distances on the paper.  
  
Then a ford and she would come to a place called Rivendell.  
  
"Rivendell?" she puzzled. Maybe Boromir was part of some underground gang and this map was for their different hideaways. She shook herself then, stop dreaming up meaningless impossibilities.  
  
Boromir rolled over and Nat stiffened. Time to get going.  
  
Glancing back she stuffed the map down her shirt and went to her brother, shaking him gently.  
  
"Thom, wake up and be very quiet, ok?"  
  
"Nat?" he mumbled.  
  
"Shh, a man's here but he's sleeping. We need to get away from him, ok?"  
  
"Ok, Nat." Thom told her, completely trusting his older sister as he always had.  
  
Thomas climbed onto his sister's offered back and Nat took him to where Boromir's horse had been tied up.  
  
"Quickly," she hurried him.  
  
When Thom was securely on the saddle she jumped once, twice and then swung her leg over the horse, nearly falling off the other side. She grabbed around Thom to the horse's mane and it whinnied.  
  
"Shhh!" she told it and untied its rein from the nearby branch. She used her knees to guide it into the right position and tried to get it to move forward.  
  
"Go, you stupid horse!" she hissed.  
  
Needless to say, it didn't move.  
  
Thom looked at his sister and patted the horse.  
  
"Come on, horse. We need to get going," he told it and bounced a bit on its back.  
  
The horse started forward.  
  
"Nice going, bro," Nat congratulated her brother before looking back to make sure Boromir hadn't awakened. He hadn't.  
  
She left him there asleep in the sun, his sword still in its scabbard and his large shield by his side holding his rations. His mouth open and snoring loudly, his arms tight around him and his cloak folded gently beside his head.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When Boromir awoke around midday the first thing he noticed was that his horse was gone. The second thing he noticed was the absence of the young woman Nat and her brother.  
  
He restrained himself from swearing too loudly.  
  
Boromir sighed and stood up.  
  
He walked over to the river and placed his canteen in it, letting it fill up with the river's sweet drink. Capping it he went back to assess his situation.  
  
"No horse . . . but at least she left me some breakfast," he said to himself, picking up the food and munching on it thoughtfully. He'd need it today. "But she took the dagger by brother lent me! He won't be too happy when I return . . ." He smiled at the thought.  
  
After a few minutes of chewing the stale bread, he shrugged to himself and headed back to the road. He'd catch up to them soon enough - it wasn't as if he could do anything else, they had his map. The only map that he had that led the way to one of the wisest of the elves, Lord Elrond of Rivendell.  
  
He had a quest, and he was going to finish it, even if that woman was going to be so determined to ruin it all for him.  
  
He began by setting one foot in front of the other, getting into a rhythm that would carry him for most of the day.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
At midday, Nat and her brother could be found sitting by one of the many streams they had crossed, eating some lunch.  
  
"That was fun, Nat," began her brother when he'd finished wolfing down his lunch.  
  
He waited for a response but Nat was staring back down the road.  
  
"I like horses. I think they're much faster than when you have to carry me. Do you think we can keep this horse? I would like to. He comes in very handy. Unless we have to give the horse back to that man."  
  
The horse whisked its tail from where it was grazing but that was the only movement in sight. There was no wind, which was strange, but Nat didn't seem to have been worried by it so neither was Thomas.  
  
"Why do you keep looking back, Nat?"  
  
"No reason," came a soft voice from Nat's lips. It wasn't like his sister.  
  
"Nat?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"Yes. But we'd better get going soon in case that man decides to follow us."  
  
Thom nodded to himself. That was more like Nat, confidently giving orders to him to get moving.  
  
Nat picked her brother up and placed him gently on the horse. She hated the bloody horse. Couldn't stand the way it shuffled along, swaying, threatening to dump her to either side if she didn't hang on. If it wasn't for Thom, she doubted she would have kept on going on that thing. But she needed it to carry Thom.  
  
For a moment she stood by the horse ready to throw her leg over.  
  
"Nat?" said her brother, nervously.  
  
"Don't worry I'm getting on, just wait a minute."  
  
"Nat? There's someone coming,"  
  
"What?" Nat swung around and saw the smudge of Boromir trudging towards them. Boromir hadn't seen them yet but Nat, in her panic swung onto the horse quickly, grabbing the reins and urging the horse forward. The horse sprung into a run nearly immediately, and they raced down the road, kicking up the dust behind them.  
  
Nat held grimly onto the reins and dug her knees deeply into the horse's ribs.  
  
"Yah!" she yelled at it, trying to make it go faster. She feared the man's wrath if he ever caught her and her brother, she remembered the way his sword had gleamed the previous night and the way his eyes had glinted with something inside. A battle lust.  
  
Boromir looked up to the sound of hoof beats and saw Thom looking back over Nat's shoulder. Boromir smiled, he was catching up and he'd disturbed them during lunch, perhaps they'd left something there.  
  
He hurried up to where he hoped they had stopped and found the saddlebags, full of his rations but no map. He groaned. He'd have let them have the horse if only he'd had the map. The wench must have it on her.  
  
He was rapidly losing patience with them but resolutely turned back to the road; following after Nat's hastily, vanishing back.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
For the next week, Nat kept the horse moving, allowing only a few hours of rest at most. Sometimes, she would relent and slow down only to look behind them on the crest of a hill and see a dark figure in the distance moving doggedly towards them.  
  
Thom would sleep and lean on Nat's chest in the afternoons. The forest was dark and warm and Nat used it to hide from Boromir often. She'd often go off the road for hours at a time and continue parallel to the road, through the forest. Hoping that maybe Boromir would pass them or give up if he couldn't see them but each day she feared for her brother's life and continued on.  
  
The horse was beginning to show weariness and when it faltered Nat would dismount and water it slowly, and then continue, leading it by the nose to the east.  
  
On the fifth day they emerged from the forest to come to the ford. They quickly made their way across and Nat hauled on the horse's reins. It stopped gratefully and lowered its head to drink the water.  
  
It screamed.  
  
Nat hurried over to the rearing horse, trying to calm it down. She led it away quickly and tied it to a nearby tree. Then she went back to the river's edge to look down into the water. The rotting corpse of a black mare stared up at her with its empty eye sockets. The fish were darting around it and bits of ravaged flesh drifted with the water's movement.  
  
Nat looked away, disgusted, from the gruesome sight.  
  
She went back to Thom.  
  
"We can't drink this water, it's dirty." His face looked crestfallen but he nodded.  
  
Nat untied the horse from the tree and lifted her brother back into the saddle.  
  
"Come on, we'll push on. I was hoping to stop here for camp but it looks like we can squeeze in a few more hours and get to this Rivendell place just after dark. How's that?"  
  
"Ok, Nat," replied her brother, weakly. He looked sick. Nat patted him on the back, hoping he hadn't drunk any of the water and tried to comfort him before moving to the front and leading the steed into the woods north east towards Rivendell.  
  
Minutes later, Boromir emerged from the trees and frowned distastefully at the dead horse. He hurried onwards and nearly fell over when he realized that Nat and Thom were not too far away. He stealthily circled around them and saw as they passed the tears on Thom's face and the determined look on Nat's.  
  
"Nat, can we stop? Please, Nat," said the young boy.  
  
"Not now, he's close, I know. We can't stop or he'll catch us."  
  
"If he catches us, will he be mad?"  
  
"Very."  
  
"Because we stole his horse?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why did we take his horse?"  
  
"Because we needed to get away quickly, and I couldn't be sure if he was very nice."  
  
"Is he nice?"  
  
"I don't know, Thom."  
  
"Could we ask him?"  
  
Boromir smiled at the child's simplicity, he knew nothing of the world. The boy Thom was innocent but his sister . . .  
  
"We can't, because he might be not nice."  
  
. . . Loved her brother.  
  
Boromir sighed and got ready to jump out at them and claim his map.  
  
"Is it very far to Rivendell?" asked Thom.  
  
"Not far, we should reach it tonight."  
  
Boromir stopped himself. What use is scaring the innocents anyway? He would follow them to Rivendell and explain himself there. Hopefully, they knew how to read a map. If they hadn't gotten there by tomorrow, he'd have to take the map by force and work out his bearings.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The sun had set by the time Nat and Thom had entered a valley hidden between the two rivers. Thom had fallen asleep and lay across the horse. His sister held onto him with one hand, half holding him onto the horse, half for her own stability. The horse had gone lame a few ks back and leaned heavily to its right.  
  
Nat looked up to the tall trees around her and admired them but then she stumbled and nearly fell so her eyes went back to the uneven and treacherous ground.  
  
She came to something hard in front of her. Someone was in her way . . .  
  
She looked up into the clearest turquoise eyes she's ever seen.  
  
"Who are you?" the lips moved.  
  
"Nat . . . and my brother Thom," she murmured.  
  
She didn't get anymore out, her body fell limp and the elven guard caught her swiftly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Okies, that's all for now, that's over 2000 words for you to read and not another chappy until the weekend or so, probably. Later maybe, it depends on withere my creative juices are still flowing. Also, that little thing called 'Go!' down the bottom? That's what you press to help my creative juices going, it helps you to REVIEW. You know about that, don't you? Reviews are the best thing for a hungry left side of the brain (or is it right? I never pay that much attention in science).  
  
You know what to do!  
  
Oh yes, my THANKIES!  
  
Angelic Pyro: Thanks, you were my first review! Yay! Thank you so much for the support.  
  
F h c: Action is coming, I promise! I'm glad you liked it, I wasn't sure if I was getting the right mood across or not.  
  
Levanna: Thanks! The plot, spelling and grammar are one of the things I've promised myself not to let slip, I hate stories that rae just liek, yeah. I was feeling a bit dark on the first chappy, but it'll all come good!  
  
Keeper Of The Dreams: I will! I want this to become of those really long, but good stories. Like Broken and A Girl Named Jack (a friend of mine's). And I'm going to finish it off very nicely, too . . .  
  
Queenieb: "lyrical" - thanks. I'm using that quote to annoy one of my friends to know end who thinks I can't write a decent story. :D Thanks for the review!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Huggles to you! Am updating!!!  
  
Lady Melanie2: Thanks and I will!  
  
Videl-14: Thanks, I hate people whp cn't spell or don't look over there work for typos. ;) Will check for review!  
  
Alina11: Teehee, you like dark haired elf twins? I like 'em even better wet! Teehee . . . Thanks for the insight. And don't worry. I will.  
  
StrawberryChick: Here's two!  
  
Priestess Of Anubis: next? Oh no! That'd be giving away spoiler! Can't be doing that! Well, I'll say that she'll always stick by her brother. Howzat?  
  
Hyper-Elf: Thanks! I was going for deep and I'm glad I got away with it! Thanks for the supportive review!  
  
Sugaricing: I know someone like that too, but she's got everything she could ever want. I was kind of angry at them for doing so many bad things to themselves at the time when I wrote the first chapter. I'm ok now though of course! Thanks for the review!  
  
*looks over list*  
  
*sniff* That looks kind of short . . .  
  
You can make a difference to that! Simply donate one review per chapter read and you can make this authoress smile. And the more you review - the more chapters you'll get! So don't miss out on this once in a lifetime offer!  
  
~ Oooh, bubble wrap! *grins* ~  
  
See what has happened to her: degraded to popping bubble wrap for a simple feeling of happiness. You can do something to change this! Click 'Go!' Now! 


	5. A Residence of Reputability

A/N: Hello all! I'm typing this from this really cool new laptop I have to have for school . . . How cool? Sorry, really hyped about this. Now nobody can chuck me off! Mwahahahaha . . . :D Ok, I'll calm down now.  
  
Disclaimer: Oh, how I hate the word as I hate all who have what I don't. Alack the day where I say that I must renounce all ties to the texts of the genius Tolkien and claim nothing except for OC's and very strange situations. *sniff* Without any further ado, I give you . . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: A Residence of Reputability  
  
Rating: Dude, it's probably what you were fishing around for under search so you probably already know. Unless you were looking up R! You dirty minded thing, you! Which is probably close to what this chapter should be rated considering that it does consider a medium amount of full-frontal nudity.  
  
Summary: Girl + bro, suck-y life in the city, homeless, but get a second chance when they (don't) find themselves in ME. Adventure? Yes! Action? Whadayathink? Romance? *sigh* Probably . . . but due to an over whelming majority it shall NOT be with Legolas which I was never really planning for anyway. One reviewer did get close to my intentions, however. Keep guessing, though!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nat woke up, the sun streaming straight onto her face painfully. She was also naked under the tightest bed sheets imaginable.  
  
"Blearrrrgh!" she yelled and thrashed to get up and away.  
  
She strained and kicked and pulled as hard as she could against the sheets but they were tucked tight underneath . . . as if they'd been wrapped around her and the mattress twice.  
  
Her brother! Where was he? She twisted in the bed and tried to look for him around the room There was a wide open window that covered most of one of the walls that showed her the rising sun.  
  
"Thom!" she called frantically, "Thom! Damn these . . ." she let herself belt into a furious tirade of the worst words uttered in mankind as she painstakingly wriggled inch by inch out of the sheets.  
  
Looking around for some sort of decency she ran to some doors that looked like they were to a wardrobe.  
  
She swung them open to a tall man who looked to be in his . . . but Nat didn't worry about his age, she slammed the door shut again at the man's wide eyed face, his hand still raised to knock and flung herself against the doors to stop him from coming any further to entering the room.  
  
She was blushing furiously and saw on the side, a hat stand, which she hefted carefully and placed through the looped handles, keeping the door securely locked.  
  
Satisfied with her handiwork, she looked over the rest of the room.  
  
There was another door on the western side of the room, she inched carefully to it and then stopped. Turning to the bed she spent ten minutes on trying to tear the sheet from the bed to fashion a toga. Ten minutes wasted, and the bed was still looking like some sort of smug sausage roll  
  
'An evil sausage roll,' thought Nat, 'waiting to entrap anyone who dares to sleep in it.'  
  
She paused then and shook her head to get the thought out.  
  
'Stupid, there's no such thing as evil. Or good . . .'  
  
She turned the handle slowly and peaked around the corner of the door to a very nice wardrobe. Aptly named for all there were were robes of every length and hue.  
  
Nat grabbed one and tossed it on aware of the other door rattling dangerously on the other side of the room.  
  
She ran over and put her ear to the door.  
  
"It was a she?" came an impressive sounding voice through the wood. Nat strained her ears hard to hear the response.  
  
"Positive, my Lord," said a whining, tweedy sounding man. Nat assumed this the man she had opened the door to.  
  
The door banged again, loudly.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"She's being impossible! Barricaded herself in her own room . . . I was only bringing breakfast. And my Lord, do they normally go about with no clothes? I mean, I know Estel didn't but . . ."  
  
"Of course, she probably just hadn't found any to put on just then but I'm sure she would have by now. Or at least hidden herself beneath the covers." The voice chuckled.  
  
Nat fumed.  
  
The door began to splinter.  
  
"Hurry up, man!" came the moaner from behind the door.  
  
Nat ran to the window and looked down into the crevasse before her.  
  
'That's the last exit crossed off the list,' she thought and went back to the door.  
  
'One last thing to do.'  
  
She artfully pulled the hat stand out of the handles so quickly that a moment later a very surprised and familiar looking guard crashed into her room and sprawled on to the floor amid the splinters.  
  
Nat let herself a quick grin at the guard's plight but straightened as the two men she had heard talking earlier entered the room. She raised her left eyebrow coolly as they appraised her in the extra large robe.  
  
"Is this the girl?" asked the one with a circlet around his head.  
  
The other man nodded. He was dressed in considerably less decorum than the other one but held himself higher and looked down his nose to the world in general.  
  
Nat gasped and squinted at them for a moment, then let her mouth open.  
  
"Your ears!" her eyes widened and her mouth hung open comically.  
  
The . . . servant held himself up even higher and sneered at her.  
  
"Yes, human."  
  
The other frowned at the 'servant' who ducked his head and backed out of the room. The guard had by now taken himself into a corner and was brushing himself down embarrassedly.  
  
"My name is Lord Elrond," began the remaining man gently, "I am an elf."  
  
Nat stared at his ears.  
  
Elrond noticed and gestured towards them familiarly.  
  
"We have elongated, pointed ears. It is a racial trait."  
  
Nat found her tongue.  
  
"Where is my brother? Where is Thom? What have you done to him?" she stepped towards Elrond threateningly holding up her hand as if to hit him, "If you have laid one finger on him . . ."  
  
"Calm yourself," Elrond held up a hand to her face, "He is still asleep. You were both exhausted when our scouts came across you in the lower entrance to the valley."  
  
"Thank you very much for all this," said Nat, "But I really must get going, my brother and I . . ."  
  
"Nonsense," interrupted Elrond, "You are still much too weak to continue your journey and your brother, well. I would feel much better if you stayed here for a few days at least. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you here with Iluvion - he is the one that found you. He will show you around Rivendell."  
  
"I've never heard of elves before," accused Nat.  
  
"You haven't?"  
  
"No, where is this place? What's with all the robes and stuff?"  
  
Elrond sighed.  
  
"We will talk later about this, I think . . ."  
  
"Hey, wait! I haven't finished!"  
  
Elrond gave her a hard gaze that stopped Nat in her tracks and fume silently.  
  
Elrond swept out of the room then, murmuring to her something about an urgent meeting that would last the rest of the day. Nat shrugged and turned to Iluvion.  
  
"Where are you keeping my brother?" she asked.  
  
Jluvien inclined his head for her to follow and led her out of the room and down the corridor.  
  
A few twists and turns later he showed her into a room where she saw her brother pale and unconscious within an amass of sheets.  
  
She ran to his side and checked his pulse carefully. Assured he was alive she turned back to the elf standing awkwardly by the door.  
  
"You can leave me now," she told him curtly.  
  
"My lady, I will await you outside. I warn you not to try to escape with the boy. We were warned by the man following you of your . . .deceptiveness." he nodded and bowed carefully as he closed the double doors.  
  
"Boromir . . .?" she asked but Iluvion was gone.  
  
Nat sneered at the departed elf and turned back to her brother.  
  
She sat there holding his hand as the tears flowed. What had she done to him? Why hadn't he woken up?  
  
He was so pale . . .  
  
So vulnerable . . .  
  
She shouldn't have forced him into this. Maybe he would have been safer in a foster home. With brothers and sisters who would play with him and not make him beg in the streets or practice pick pocketing in the markets. She'd been so set on independence that she'd forgotten that he was a kid.  
  
She buried her head in his chest and cried for false hope and innocence.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Iluvion waited patiently outside the door and heard sobs from inside.  
  
He sighed. At least he knew the human was in there still. He hated to think of what would happen if she did escape. He let his thoughts play over the last few days' events.  
  
Estel had returned with some strange halflings only a week ago. He'd been glad to see the man welcomed back to his home and brothers. The twins had been intolerable since he'd left.  
  
Iluvion smiled as he thought of the halflings' antics. He liked the older one, Bilbo who had come months . . . or was it years? Nonetheless, he had entertained the elves with his stories and songs of high adventure and raucous emotion.  
  
Mithrandir was here too, and if that was the case, the Council that had convened today was of extreme urgency.  
  
Prince Legolas of Mirkwood had arrived a few days before too. He was a little self-righteous but that was expected of a prince.  
  
The man, Boromir . . . Iluvion grinned, he had walked all the way from the Last Bridge following that stupid girl and her brother to Rivendell simply because he couldn't read the map. Strangely enough, the girl had been able to . . .  
  
The girl was ignorant of the world. Most likely a village lass who was exiled for having lad out of wedlock and kept up the pretence of the child being her brother to keep prospects of a mate high.  
  
Iluvion sighed, thinking of how the girl had just fallen into his arms. At the time he'd thought it had been on purpose, but evidently not. Most human females would do that to elves if they were stupid enough not to realise the extent of their immortality.  
  
He stopped his pacing as the chamber's doors swung open emitting the girl herself, Nat.  
  
"My lady?" he inquired coolly.  
  
"He's not waking up yet, and I'm hungry," growled Nat.  
  
"Very well, my lady. This way," the girl's whimsical nature was grating.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thom did not wake that day, nor the next and Nat got increasingly worried. This place with pointy-eared pounces everywhere was irritating and she'd yelled at more than one of them for no real reason other than her impatience. She sometimes caught herself wishing that Thom wasn't so sick and sometimes if she didn't have a brother at all.  
  
She was immediately ashamed after those thoughts and would go to sit next to him and hold his hand for hours at a time afterwards.  
  
That night, Iluvion had invited her to some sort of concert after dinner - which she had taken to eating in her or Thomas' rooms. She'd reluctantly accepted after being told that Elrond expected everyone to be there.  
  
Elrond scared her sometimes with his power over the "household". His authority, no matter how much she tried to avoid it or put it down, would always seem to loom over her and crack down onto her conscience.  
  
The 'concert' hadn't been that bad. All those little people that had called themselves Hobbits had stood up and recited poems or songs, taking turns with the elves. Even Iluvion had had a go. She laughed at some of the funny ones and then as the night grew on, cried at the soft voices of the elves' laments. She cried for her brother, her father, her mother - wherever she was and for her freedom. Never was she gladder of her freedom.  
  
The next morning she'd woken up with a terrible headache and the past night's knowledge of her falling into Iluvion's arms once again, this time sobbing all over him while he patted her back and listened to her mumble her anger and sorrow.  
  
She'd locked herself in again that day and spent the day kicking herself mentally over the head while Iluvion sat outside, leaning his back against the door reading his book.  
  
It was times like this that she found her guide detestable.  
  
"You finished sulking yet?" he asked her, calling through the door.  
  
"NO! Go away!" she yelled back at him, throwing a chair at the door.  
  
Iluvion winced as it thudded against his back.  
  
"Ouch," he muttered.  
  
"I hope that hurt!" she yelled again.  
  
Jluvien frowned and tried to immerse himself back into his book again.  
  
Nat looked at the window again, she'd been thinking recently of escape through there. Not today certainly, but a practice run wouldn't hurt until her brother was well enough to leave.  
  
She pushed the window open, they had trusted her enough to leave it unlocked now but it was still high above the ground.  
  
She edged herself out over the edge and let her feet catch onto the ledge below. She slowly picked her way across to the next bedroom, and then the next. Soon she'd made it to the corner of the building. A long pipe ran along the corner, running from the kitchens below. She hooked her leg over it and slid slowly down.  
  
She grinned as her feet touched the ground and ran off for her first day by herself. She could explore anywhere she wanted to now!  
  
She ran into the garden and climbed a tree. Reaching the top, she laughed as she saw though the window, Iluvion, still sitting outside her door, reading her book.  
  
She clambered back down before he looked up and ran further into the gardens.  
  
And straight into a very familiar man outside a temple of sorts.  
  
"Ah, my lady. I was wondering when you'd run into me again,"  
  
"Boromir! Ah, nice to see you. Running errand for Elrond. Hah hah, errand, elrond, got to run . . ." she turned to go into the temple he had just exited.  
  
He caught her arm.  
  
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you. The Lady Arwen Evenstar and the ranger Strider have things to discuss. Privately, if they may."  
  
Nat sniffed at him and tried to pull away from him.  
  
"Not so fast, I'd like to talk to you. Lord Elrond shouldn't mind too much."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sorry, I might review this a bit tomorrow, but I thought that since a few people liked it how I updated so quickly . . . *shrugs* Its late so I might change my mind tomorrow and change the chapter, depends on you guys. Ah wells, there you are. What do you think?  
  
HINT: To tell me what you think, click the Go button. 


	6. An Acceptance Of Worlds

A/N: Saw Rotk today, finally! It came out late Down Under so I was forced to wait while my overseas friends whispered spoilers at me tauntingly . . . grrr. Anyhow, this most probably won't be finished today so I'll finish this A/N when I finish off the chappy.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: An Acceptance Of Worlds  
  
Rating: PG 13 or M/normal PG for those who DON'T conform to American measures.  
  
Summary: I denounce the tenth walker impression any are getting here! I will not conform to the Mary Sue! This is about the girl not her influencing Middle Earth.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What do you want?" she asked.  
  
"I want you to know who I am so you can trust me a little better than you did last time."  
  
"And?"  
  
Boromir looked hard into Nat's eyes and saw mockery.  
  
"I am a Man of Gondor."  
  
"You know that means nothing to me."  
  
"Aye, your geography skills are to be desired. Gondor is one of the two kingdoms of Men. The other is Rohan, whose people are born into the saddle. Gondor lies to the south. I am heir to its Stewardship."  
  
"So?"  
  
Boromir nearly sighed with exasperation at the girl's incompetence.  
  
"I am held in high stead. I am honour bound to protect my kin and allies."  
  
"I am neither."  
  
"You are my kin."  
  
The girl stared at him.  
  
"But I'm not . . . I don't even belong here! This place is a freak house!"  
  
"You will not speak that way about the people who took you in and cared for you."  
  
"I know nothing about this place, I want to go back to what I know! I've never heard of elves except for the short-assed ones who help make toys in the North Pole. I don't want to be here, I want to be back with what I know! And if you're so high and mighty, how come I've never heard of you and your precious kingdom of Men? I know nothing of this world."  
  
"Then accept it, you can do nothing else."  
  
"I do not come from here, this is a mad world of fantasy!  
  
"And yet nonetheless, you are my kin."  
  
He gripped her arm harder as she tried to pull away.  
  
"Listen to me in this; Lord Elrond has done many things for you and your brother, I would not be so ungrateful if I were you. Be a bit more accepting of the unknown. Not everything is out to harm you."  
  
"He has taken me under his roof yes, but has treated me like a prisoner!" she whispered fiercely.  
  
"He knows your spirit and would not have you wandering off by yourself. Nor have you harming your brother by taking him with you."  
  
Nat threw a hard punch at Boromir's face, which he dodged easily.  
  
"Violence is not acceptable in Rivendell, girl."  
  
"I would never harm my brother!"  
  
"Oh? And how do you think that little runaway jaunt cost him? He has already lost his legs, most likely from you pushing him too far . . ."  
  
Nat didn't hit him this time, she stared at him hard and trembled. Fighting back the tears she spat into his face and hissed at him.  
  
"His legs have been useless since he was three. That's the reason why I left. Why I ran away. I didn't want him hurt any more. We survived for months on the street after dad . . ."  
  
Boromir loosened his grip and Nat tore away from him and ran back towards her room.  
  
Her heart was pounding and her feet flying over the path. She was about to turn into the corridor when she stopped and watched Jluvien. She did not want him to talk to her. She couldn't stand his snarky smile whenever he looked at her. She bit her lip stubbornly and turned to go further into the household.  
  
Perhaps she should visit her brother again, but she felt too angry and the tears were threatening her steel. She did not want to have him wake up and see her face seething over something that had nothing to do with him.  
  
On the other hand, she did not want him waking up to no one. She breathed deeply as she approached her brother's ward. And began to walk down the corridor.  
  
She stopped in her tracks as she saw her brother, walking on his two legs. Supported slightly by the elf that had taken them in.  
  
"What are you doing to him?" she yelled and ran for her brother.  
  
"Stop, Nat. It's ok," Thom told her before she could lash out at Lord Elrond.  
  
"What have you done to him? Does it hurt, Thom? How can you . . . ?"  
  
Lord Elrond smiled benevolently and let go of Thom who walked across to Nat carefully. Not quite trusting his legs.  
  
"He's a strong one, that's for sure. I wasn't sure if those legs of his would heal . . ."  
  
"Thom?" Nat asked slowly.  
  
"'Rond helped me! I can walk, Nat!" he grinned joyously and hugged his sister around the waist, "When I was asleep he did something to my legs and now I can walk, Nat! I can walk!"  
  
Nat was staring into Elrond's eyes and he nodded carefully to her. She knelt down in front of her brother.  
  
"It seems you can walk, Thom. Do you like walking?"  
  
"Oh yes!"  
  
"Would you like to go for a walk in the garden with me?"  
  
"Ok, Nat." Thom's eyes were still full of the trust and confidence in his sister. Nat wasn't sure about sharing this with the Lord of Rivendell, but for now, she was glad her brother was smiling.  
  
She paused at the doorway and turned to her brother.  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
Thom turned around shyly to Lord Elrond.  
  
"Thank you, 'Rond."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They had made there way into the inner courtyard slowly with frequent rests for Thoms untested legs. When they reached the gardens, they found that they were not alone.  
  
"Hey, Merry! O'er here! O'er here! Oof! Ah hah!!!" yelled a small boy who looked to be around Thom's own age. Nat wondered if he was an elven child.  
  
"I'll get you for that, I will," said another one, looking a bit podgy. He ran towards the first trying to catch him.  
  
"Oi, Pip! Quickly! He's gainin'!" another emerged.  
  
They ran in circles with the larger one trying to get at the object the other two were throwing around.  
  
Nat stood up.  
  
"Hey, leave him alone!" she knew bullying when she saw it but another had as well.  
  
Nat turned to see another child standing there with a serious look in his eyes.  
  
"Give Sam his tool box back."  
  
"Aww, but we was only tryin' to get a bit o' exercise out o' 'im," quipped the one called Pip.  
  
"Yeah, exercise do be god fer you, you know," said Merry.  
  
Sam snatched the toolbox out of the hands of a wide-eyed and innocent looking Pip and glared at the two of them as they appealed to him.  
  
"Aww, c'mon it was on'y a bit o' fun."  
  
"Yeah, don' lock us oot, we be your kin 'ere."  
  
Nat left them to their cajoling and saw the one who had spoken up waiting politely for her to notice him.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. You go on and play if you like," she said sweetly.  
  
"I'm not a child."  
  
Nat blinked.  
  
"I am a hobbit, a halfling. I am not a child and my name is Frodo, milady," explained the boy . . . hobbit patiently. "These are my kinsmen." He seemed to have had to explain it many times before.  
  
"I'm Nat, and this is my brother Thom," Nat replied, quite bewildered.  
  
"Can I play with you?" asked Thom, oblivious to Frodo's previous clarification. He saw someone his own age that had a spark of fun to be had.  
  
"Of course," replied Frodo graciously and led Thom over to the other three hobbits and introduced them.  
  
"Why do you have pointy ears?" asked Thom, ever curious.  
  
Merry shrugged.  
  
"S'cos we was born wit 'em, I guess."  
  
Thom nodded, satisfied. Merry and Pip soon entertained him while Frodo and Sam walked off into the Halls.  
  
Yelps and laughter followed as they began to play hide and seek. It had always been one of Thom's favourite games to play with Nat.  
  
Nat would hide in the area and he'd yell out where she was. If he was right she had to come out and give him a prize. Now, he needed no prize, he had the joy of finding them himself, of crawling into the out of the way places, exploring the garden.  
  
Nat waited for a while, watching her brother smile genuinely for the first time in ages. He giggled and mucked around like a boy his age should. Nat knew that he had never known childhood. She'd seen no reason to hide truth from him, and he had bore it well.  
  
Or had he?  
  
Now, she wasn't sure. Had she done the right thing in leaving her father? He had harmed them, sure and was a poor drunk old man who tangled with whores off the street. But there was a safety at home when he hadn't been around. Didn't that outweigh the dangers?  
  
But no, her father still would beat them when he felt like it. They had to hide when he brought women home and heard them groan. She had been alone with a babe in her arms in a dank and musty cupboard. It would have been no place for Thom to grow up in.  
  
Her thoughts turned to the present. Of what Boromir had said.  
  
"Accept it."  
  
This world, how could she? She knew nothing and when they spoke in that strange tongue of elves, she felt left out. She knew they only spoke English for her benefit.  
  
"Accept it."  
  
How could she accept it? How could she accept something she had never known or been prepared for? How could she?  
  
"Accept it."  
  
His words seemed to drown her and she felt the tears of nostalgia prick at the corners of her eyes. She blinked quickly and ignored the throbbing in her temples.  
  
She would have to make do. Like she'd always done. This was no different from the streets she'd taken Thom to. Thom had not been prepared, and neither had she. At least this time they had friends and the world was kind.  
  
Thom turned then and yelled at her happily. She could not make out his words but nodded once. He grinned and turned to run off with Merry and Pip. His legs grown strong with the joy of regaining something he'd thought lost forever.  
  
Nat sat there for a time and felt someone sit beside her.  
  
"It is hard to let someone go."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"He will grow into a fine young man, I think. And he'll make friends easily."  
  
Nat turned to the person who was sitting next to her.  
  
"What do you think you're doing here?"  
  
"Apologising," Boromir said simply, "I was wrong to accuse you of hurting your brother when it is evident that you love him so much."  
  
Nat nearly winced at the word love. It was not for him to talk about.  
  
"I know you were wrong."  
  
"I'm not sure that you did, you seem unsure about a lot of things."  
  
Nat didn't answer. She wanted him to leave her, he was some sort of terrible conscience that pushed at her to say or do something nice. To go back on her words or go and accept what fate had brought her.  
  
"This world is alien to you, that much I know. But you haven't helped yourself by ignoring it."  
  
"I know it's there, it doesn't mean I have to like it," she told him, looking back into the garden.  
  
"You know nothing of it."  
  
"I know enough."  
  
"You cannot hide here all your life."  
  
"I will not be here my whole life."  
  
"And how are you going to do that, then? This is the only safe haven you know. No one else would take you."  
  
"I will go back to what I know."  
  
"I doubt you very much that you will."  
  
"I will!" she insisted fiercely.  
  
"How?" he demanded, "It would be better if you learnt some crafts here to make yourself useful. Carve yourself a place in this world. Learn the elven tongue and the elven ways. Lord Elrond will take you under his wing, I am sure."  
  
Nat sneered.  
  
"Or do you fear Lord Elrond?"  
  
"I fear no one."  
  
"Do you fear he will take your brother's trust from you?"  
  
Nat stayed silent.  
  
Boromir waited companionably before getting up to leave her with her thoughts.  
  
"Carve yourself a place here and strike out on your own. Your brother will be cared for here and you will have your independence. Know the ways of the elves and of Middle Earth and I am sure that you will eventually find your home . . . Where ever that is."  
  
Nat ignored him as he walked away. How could she leave her brother? She would never leave her brother! The man be damned if he thought he could tell her what to do!  
  
"My lady?"  
  
Nat groaned inwardly as Iluvion came up behind her.  
  
"It is getting late and I have been looking for you all over if my Lord Elrond had not told me you were here."  
  
Nat sighed and stuck out her hands.  
  
"So cuff me and lead me to my cell," she said in a weary voice.  
  
"No need for that, lady," he told her, "There's a feast to be held tonight. For the Fellowship that was chosen at this day's Council. You will need to be made ready."  
  
"Feast?" Nat asked stupidly.  
  
"That's right. Now if you'll follow me, we'll need to get you ready."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Will she find true love at the ball? Will she finally meet Legolas like so many other AU fics have done so before? Will I make her the tenth walker (which I doubt  
  
sincerely)? What will be her reaction when she finds that she must wear a dress? Will Iluvion rub it in? Will she hit him if he runs it in? Will I update within the week or forget about it unless I threaten you for 50 reviews? Find out next time . . .  
  
Oh yes, Shaitan would like to say a little word . . .  
  
THANK YOU FOR THE HAMMER SQKYOo7  
  
*HEFTS HAMMER THREATENINGLY AND TESTS IT ON NEARBY WALL*  
  
*WALL COLLAPSES*  
  
THIS IS A MIGHTY GIFT  
  
*GRUMBLES FOR HAVING TO BE REDUCED TO COMMON COURTESY BUT IS  
NONETHELESS EXTREMELY GRATEFUL* 


	7. Trends and Epicures

A/N: Oops, looks like it's going to be more than a week since I last updated. Damn, was hoping for more reviews for that last chapter but the ones I got were very satisfying. Names for Jluvien will continue until I have at least 5 suggestions, cos I REALLY want more reviews. If you like your one get a friend to review and put in a really stupid name, or something ;)  
  
Oh yeah, I'd have no idea what elves wear underneath so let's assume these are kept for humans . . . I'm not going to go supposing what elves go around in.  
  
*sniff* Me want Lotr. Means I don't have . . . as yet! Mwahahaha! Nat and Thom and Jluvien (or whatever his name is) are MINE though.  
  
PS. I have never tasted pheasant. So I wouldn't know what it tastes like.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Trends and Epicure  
  
Rating: *blinks*Does nothing get through to you? PG-13!!!  
  
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nat followed Iluvion back to her rooms where he showed her which dress Lord Elrond had provided for her to wear.  
  
She took one glance at it and shook her head emphatically.  
  
"Why not?" Iluvion asked puzzled, "Do you not like dresses? I'm sorry but Lord Elrond was . . ."  
  
"No, no," interrupted Nat, "It's just that it's . . ." She made the inter- worldly sign for her chest.  
  
Iluvion looked quizzically at her.  
  
"They'll fall out," she added.  
  
Iluvion continued the look of polite incomprehension.  
  
She rather pointedly pointed at her breasts.  
  
"Oh," Iluvion blushed.  
  
"Do you see now why I can't wear it? It's just too . . . low."  
  
"Ummm," Iluvion seemed quite unable to handle the situation.  
  
Nat waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts.  
  
"How about you find me another?" she suggested.  
  
Iluvion shook his head.  
  
"Milord said that you were to wear this one and this one alone."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You're becoming a woman so it's nothing really . . ."  
  
Once again, Nat seemed to be cornered by the man . . . elf's authority.  
  
"But I see your point," Iluvion conceded.  
  
They both looked at the dress.  
  
"Maybe if I . . ." Iluvion didn't finish his sentence and ran out of the room in search of a seamstress.  
  
Nat watched him as he ran off, obviously he hadn't had much in the way of adolescents.  
  
She sighed and fingered the material. It was a lovely dress, really.Shame she wouldn't be able to wear it.  
  
Iluvion returned with a pink faced she-elf who pushed him out of the room and smiled breathlessly at an astonished Nat.  
  
"Let's see what we can do with this, hmm? Oh dear, yes, very low cut . . . I don't know what milord was thinking when he . . ." the elf busied herself around Nat pulling at her clothes.  
  
"What are you doing?" Nat yelped and pulled away before the seamstress would remove her robe.  
  
The seamstresses eyes narrowed.  
  
"A bit modest, are we? Oh well, hurry up and get the dress on." The elf turned her back to Nat and tapped her foot impatiently.  
  
Nat stared helplessly at the elf's back and slipped on the dress as quickly as she could.  
  
"Uhhh, underwear . . ."  
  
The seamstress whirled around and whistled before going to the wardrobe and ruffling through the many robes.  
  
"Well, I must say it looks nice but if your uncomfortable . . . Never mind dear, put these on," she threw some strange looking shorts to her.  
  
Nat hurriedly put them on as the elf practically flew back to her charge and started holding up the material in various places - under her arms, her shoulders, and the small of her back.  
  
Nat tried to stay stock still as she felt rather than saw the needles push through the fabric.  
  
After several minutes the seamstress stood back to admire her work.  
  
"Hmm, yes . . . Have a look at yourself, dearie."  
  
Nat walked slowly over to the mirror.  
  
"How's that, girl?"  
  
Nat nodded carefully.  
  
"It would have to do," babbled on the elf, "Any higher and Elrond would suspect something or it might get too tight. Too tight equals an ugly sight."  
  
"Thank you, this will be fine," murmured Nat.  
  
The seamstress hurried back to the wardrobe.  
  
"Now before I go . . . put these on, they'll go nicely with the dress and I'll advise you on leaving your hair out. It will look much better."  
  
Nat nodded absently and shuffled the elf out the door with a few more mumbled praises for the woman's handiwork. She returned to put on the slippers and re-adjust the underwear thrown at her.  
  
Looking at herself in the mirror she nodded to her reflection determinably. She'd be fine, and she'd be damned if she took her hair out. It'd just end up knotty and unmanageable by the end of the night. Plus, judging by her relaxed nature she probably wouldn't bother brushing it tonight and leave it for the morning. Nat grimaced at the thought of pulling a brush through her mop of hair.  
  
Nat steadied herself and pushed open the door to find Iluvion leaning nonchalantly against a pillar.  
  
"Ready?" he asked and without waiting for an answer, turned round quickly and led her down the corridors.  
  
Nat shivered as the flimsy material fell against her legs and swished loudly. All of the halls were silent.  
  
"Everyone there already?" she ventured to the back of Iluvion.  
  
"Yes," he said flatly without turning around or slowing.  
  
Nat stayed silent after that.  
  
Moments later she heard some noises which slowly grew louder as they closed onto the Hall.  
  
Iluvion stopped and stiffly offered his arm to her.  
  
"It's alright," she said and tried to push past to the door or the Hall.  
  
He stepped in front of her and offered his arm again.  
  
"Ladies cannot be allowed to enter unescorted."  
  
"Oh, too bad then, I guess. Look like I'll just have to go stay in my room," sighed Nat dramatically before turning to run back to her rooms, wherever they were.  
  
Iluvion caught her elbow and manhandled her arm into submission, clamping it tightly to his body with his arm and pulled her into the Hall.  
  
Their entrance went largely unnoticed among the revellers, Iluvion dragged Nat over to a table where she found Boromir, Thom, the strange hobbits and four strangers.  
  
"This is the table reserved for guests of Rivendell," Iluvion stated before leaving her abruptly and disappearing into the crowd.  
  
Thom barely noticed her as he talked animatedly to the two of the hobbits she'd seen that afternoon at the end of the table. They were the mischief- makers of the four, she noted. She'd have to try and talk to Thom about that later. Perhaps she should try to encourage him to spend more time with the other one, Frodo.  
  
Nat looked to the rest of the table to find Boromir seated next to her, but talking seriously to another man who listened to his words patiently, answering with carefully considered responses. She didn't want to interrupt them.  
  
A blonde haired elf was seated opposite her but he was talking to an old man that had a prominent grey hat seated on his head. They both wore long faces, the topic they were discussing must have been grave and depressing, she felt no need to intrude on them.  
  
Next to her however, was a man being studiously ignored by everyone else in the room, or at leat not noted.  
  
She turned to him in hope of some conversation.  
  
"Excuse me, but are you a hobbit? The other's must be quite young . . . they don't have the beards. I'm Nat," she stuck her hand out bravely at the helmeted person next to her who glared up into her face.  
  
For a moment he seemed ready to hit her, with Nat all but ready to flinch, but then relaxed suddenly. He took her cringing hand.  
  
Nat opened her eyes slowly.  
  
"Took y' for an elf in that dress, milady. I shouldn't be so hasty," he apologised.  
  
"I'm sorry if I . . ." stumbled Nat but her neighbour waved his hand at her.  
  
"No matter, you mustn't have met a dwarf before. We're quite a bit taller than the halflings o'er there," he chuckled and the mood seemed to lighten a bit, "I am Gimli, son of Gloin."  
  
He stared rather directly at their still shaking hands.  
  
"Oh," Nat blushed and let go.  
  
"Nervous, eh?" he asked jovially, "I must say, I feel a bit out of place here to m'self. It's these blasted elves!" The last he said loudly and the blonde one opposite stared disapprovingly at him for a moment before turning back to his conversation with the old man. Gimli shrugged.  
  
"That one o'er there's the worst of 'em, I reckon," he whispered quietly, "A prince too! Of that bewitched wood in the East."  
  
Nat nodded cluelessly.  
  
"Ah, y' wouldn't have any idea what I be goin' on about, do y'? Not to worry, milady. I'll show you some day. I know for a fact we'll be here for quite a while."  
  
The conversation hit a dead end and Nat struggled to find a topic to talk to the dwarf about.  
  
"So, err . . . you don't like elves, do you?"  
  
"No!" exclaimed Gimli and it seemed the end of that topic. Nat racked her brain for something else. Some sort of conversation starter . . . hmmm.  
  
"So, err . . . what do you do?"  
  
"I beg y' pardon, milady?"  
  
"Don't worry, food's here."  
  
Gimili didn't answer and tucked into the plate put before him.  
  
Nat turned to her own and looked enquiringly at it then at hr companions.  
  
Thom and his new found friends were devouring their plates and asking for more while Boromir hadn't bothered touching his. The elf-prince opposite her was delicately putting it to his mouth as the old man chewed and looked thoughtful.  
  
Nat looked back at the plate, which stared predatorily back.  
  
It had . . . things on it. She wasn't sure. It looked like chicken but still had some strange coloured feathers attached to it.  
  
"Pheasant, milady. You will enjoy it," said the elf opposite her. She nodded gratefully and continued to stare at the now named meat.  
  
"Lord Elrond's hunter's snared it this morning, it is quite fresh," the elf continued.  
  
"Thank you," murmured Nat, realising she'd have to eat the meat if she wasn't to give any offence.  
  
She picked up her fork and knife carefully and carved the meat into tiny pieces. The juice oozed out and she inwardly cringed.  
  
The elf was watching, though. She'd have to eat it eventually. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, stuffing the smallest piece she could into her mouth.  
  
She swallowed before tasting it, but some of the juices remained in her mouth. The taste was . . . strange. She proceeded with this, being careful not to let the meat linger in her mouth too long, lest she make a face.  
  
The elf had finished his plate by the time she had finished hers and was looking at her expectantly.  
  
Nat tried to look inconspicuous as he rose and went around to her side of the table.  
  
"Milady, if you would care to dance?"  
  
She winced as he spoke each word. Why did he have to ask her? Wait, WHAT had he asked her?  
  
She looked to him in confusion.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologised, "I am Legolas of the Mirkwood realm. Please?" he indicated the cleared space in the centre of the hall where many couples already flowed gracefully.  
  
She blanched.  
  
Her? Dance? She looked wildly between the prince and the dancing couples. She was ready to fold under the pressure and get out of there.  
  
"I . . . I do not dance," she mumbled to the prince, embarrassed.  
  
"You do not dance? Oh come now, tonight is a grand occasion! Just this one dance, I promise you."  
  
"No . . . I can't . . . I . . ."  
  
Legolas' eyebrows rose slightly.  
  
"Very well, I did not mean to press."  
  
He swept off and found another partner. Nat found herself watching him and his partner float onto the dance floor and elegantly join the others. She sighed wishfully. These people were so beautiful . . .  
  
"You do not dance, milady?" Boromir asked playfully.  
  
"Leave me alone . . ."  
  
"Do you know how to dance, milady?" he asked again, teasingly.  
  
"No! And I don't want to. I don't need to," she told him sullenly.  
  
"If you'd told him, the prince would have taught you in a sheltered spot."  
  
"I don't want to learn."  
  
"And not learn to move like them? That is a fool's wish," he reproached her.  
  
"I'm fine the way I am," Nat told him, "I have no wish to be anyone other than who I am."  
  
"And that is a wiseman's wish," interceded Gimli. Nat flashed him a quick smile of gratitude as Boromir scowled.  
  
"I will teach you," said Boromir quietly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Aren't I evil? Right in the middle of a potentially romantic scene too! I love this story. Read through it and found a TERRIBLY big mistake and no one seems to have picked up on it. Hmm, what can I offer as a prize to someone who finds it, hmm? I'll think about it. A request? Who the love interest shall be? So many different outcomes . . . Hmm.  
  
I'll give you a clue, it has to do with a Middle Earth fact (and it's not Jluvien's poorly thought up name) and it's not any grammar/spelling mistakes. So . . . anyone able to pick it up?  
  
Another note, Review! Please! Complete the circle! Now you've read you simply MUST Review. It's the whole R&R thing. It'd be against nature to not review! And you don't want to do that, now do you?  
  
Oh yes, funny comic this morning in paper. Thing that was at the end made me laugh, coming from a guy writing his essay: "Panic is my muse."  
  
*giggles*  
  
Well, I found it funny!  
  
*grins evilly*  
  
Oh when shall I update, hmm? When, oh when?  
  
*skips off singing to self* 


	8. Mellifluous Divulgences

A/N: Argh! I couldn't help it, I just HAVE to update again. Boromir's such a sweetie, no? And that cliffhanger was worse for me then it was for you, you know. I've been plagued with plot twists for the last 24 (well, 48 now that I'm posting. Can't post too quickly, now can I?) hours so I'm going to try my best to work myself up to what I know has to happen. And haven't I mentioned that the love interest will not be Legolas? There are way too many Legolas fics around. The only reason this is under Legolas as it's primary character is to get more people to read it because people search for Legolas more than any other character, I'm guessing (devious aren't I?).  
  
Oh yeah, *grumbles* *Shaitan gives Aman a shove* Grr! Tolkien's not mine, most likely never will be lest I succeed in my quest. Nat, Thom and Jluvien (he still needs a name and he's getting impatient!) are mine.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Mellifluous Divulgences  
  
Rating: *sigh*  
  
Summary: Obvious, girl and her brother find themselves in ME and the following are the adventures that ensue.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"I will teach you," Boromir said quietly as Nat turned to Gimli to strike up the conversation again.  
  
Nat hadn't heard him. Boromir sighed softly and watched her laugh animatedly with Gimli. Moments later the second course arrived and Nat's attention was on her food.  
  
Boromir turned to his plate. Venison. How he detested venison. It had been all he had eaten on the way to Rivendell. Dried venison then and now they served it with rich sauces and a fresh salad. He made a quick face at the dish before him and glanced to the girl seated next to him. She was also eyeing the food suspiciously.  
  
"Come on," he told her, taking her hand, "Let's get some real food." He grinned and she smiled gratefully.  
  
"Thanks, that pheasant before was really . . ." Nat told him quietly a they wound their way through the tables to the servant's entrance.  
  
"Rich?"  
  
"Yeah . . ."  
  
Boromir led her down the stairs to the kitchen to find the Hall's cooks hard at work. No one noticed them as they made their way to a pantry in the corner.  
  
Boromir looked over his choices and then took out two pieces of bread, giving one to Nat.  
  
"Not much here I'm afraid," he told her as he rummaged though the pantry for some filling.  
  
Nat looked over his shoulder and spotted some cheese in the corner.  
  
"How about that?" she suggested. Boromir looked over and took the cheese out, looking over it and finally satisfied, grabbed a knife from a nearby bench and cut some slices, handing some to Nat.  
  
They went outside and sat down to eat in silence.  
  
Nat broke off the bread into smaller pieces to eat the roll slowly while Boromir took a chunk out of it. Crumbs were soon falling into his beard.  
  
Nat laughed when she looked at him.  
  
"You got breadcrumbs in your beard!" she said, smiling. Boromir wiped his mouth quickly, dislodging the crumbs. They finished their rolls in silence and sat there, staring out over the valley.  
  
Somewhere above them in the Hall, the orchestra began another number. Boromir stood up and gestured to Nat.  
  
"It's now or never," he told her.  
  
"What? Me dance? No way."  
  
"Come on," he urged her taking her hand and pulling her up, "It will be fun, I promise you. Or at least interesting." He smirked.  
  
"You saying I can't dance?" accused Nat.  
  
"Oh, never," Boromir smirked at her again, challenging her.  
  
"Well, that's settled, let's go back up then." Nat turned her back on the man and made her way back towards the Hall.  
  
Boromir grabbed at her arm, nearly ripping the sleeve.  
  
"You'll be asked to dance as son as you enter that door you know," he told her.  
  
Nat shrugged his hand off her shoulder.  
  
"Well, then. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."  
  
She turned and made her way to where she thought her rooms were.  
  
"You're going the wrong way, lady. The guest rooms are in the western wing."  
  
Nat turned and glared at him.  
  
"And it'll be seen as bad grace if you leave so early."  
  
"It's nearly eleven!"  
  
The man shrugged.  
  
"Elven banquets last quite late into the night, Nat."  
  
Nat watched him warily.  
  
"Why can't I just not dance?" she asked, oblivious to the disgusting double negative. Boromir winced at her language but answered her nonetheless.  
  
"Well, you've already offended the princeling by not dancing with him, and I know for a fact that Elrond will be asking you."  
  
"But he's . . . he's . . ."  
  
"Your host. And I know for a fact that his son's are charged with dancing at least twice with you this night."  
  
Nat blew air through her nose in fury, getting a well-deserved look from Boromir as well as an awkward position.  
  
"I don't want to . . . but he's . . . I can't dance . . . I . . ." Nat gave up trying to get her thoughts out of her head in a near scream of indignation.  
  
Boromir handed her a hanky, which she looked over suspiciously before accepting gratefully and blowing into it.  
  
"Bleugh . . ." she said trying to give it back to Boromir.  
  
"Keep it," he said.  
  
She sat down on the chair she'd so recently vacated in a sigh of despair.  
  
"Why should I care if . . ."  
  
"You brother will be frowned upon and be given a hard time, not to mention yourself."  
  
This hit the nail on the head. Nat turned to Boromir.  
  
"Not that I want to or anything, but before I go in there I want a five minute lesson in dance."  
  
She got up and approached him carefully.  
  
"I don't believe I'm doing this . . ." she said as she surrendered herself to Boromir's meticulous corrections in her posture.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Five minutes later she walked back into the Hall, slightly educated about the nuances of dancing. Boromir had taught her enough to keep her on her feet and not trip anyone else up. Almost immediately she was accosted by two dark haired elves.  
  
"Lady Natalie?" one asked, "My name is Elrohir, would you care to dance?" Without waiting for answer he took her by the arm and dragged her onto the floor.  
  
"Don't take too long, brother!" yelled the one that was left behind.  
  
"My twin, Elladan," explained the elf that had now taken firm hold of her waist and hand.  
  
"So, Lady Natalie . . ."he began  
  
"Just Nat," said Nat distractedly.  
  
"Nat then. How long do you plan to stay in Rivendell?" the elf asked her courteously.  
  
"I don't know," replied Nat, watching her feet uncertainly.  
  
"I hope you enjoy your stay, however long you will be staying. My father spoke of you taking some archery lessons tomorrow and wondered what would be good time would be for you?"  
  
She looked up at him in surprise and nearly tripped where it not for his hands gripping her tightly.  
  
"Archery?"  
  
"Yes. Oh, I'm sorry. My father has told me that I was to teach you," he explained. He continued to talk in her ear as he spun her. Nat let herself be moved, here, there and everywhere in the capable hands of the elf.  
  
He had asked her another question but Nat has simply blinked at him so it seemed the end of the conversation. These people confused her to know end. They were so much more confident with themselves and seemed at ease all the time.  
  
Elrohir proceeded to stately lead her though two dances before returning to his brother and handing her over to him.  
  
She felt positively dizzy after them, and she was passed along lines of men who waited patiently on the edge of the floor.  
  
To her credit, she did not step on any feet or bump any of the other couples but she felt her clumsiness stand out among the other elven couples.  
  
Names whirled past her, and soon enough she was reduced to her most basic of defences: Smile and Nod. For the next two hours, she grew tried and the elves that had twirled her around the floor began giving her drinks.  
  
Boromir watched this nervously. He didn't want her doing something she'd regret in the morning.  
  
He turned back to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur . . . or so he was told. He resumed telling the man of the affairs of Gondor, of his father, his brother, the enemies movements and their defences . . .  
  
Nat was in the meanwhile, getting quite tipsy. The potent ingredient' of elven wine were beginning to go to her head. She stumbled a bit when one the elves gathered around her shoved her accidentally.  
  
"Whoa . . ." she mumbled.  
  
She'd been trashed before, but not this much. She felt the bile rise in her throat and knew she had to get out of there before she embarrassed herself and her host.  
  
She tripped over and elf's leg as she went, and nearly went sprawling when someone caught her and heaved one of her arms around her shoulder. She murmured her thanks and let her head slump forward. Her saviour rudely slapped her awake again.  
  
Together they staggered outside to the balcony where stranger was holding her head while she disgorged the night's meal.  
  
"Uhghhh . . ." she said when she'd finished. She looked up blearily into the eyes of Iluvion who looked disapprovingly at her.  
  
"No one will miss you if you retire now," he said as he pulled her from the balcony and half carried her towards her rooms.  
  
"Need some help?" asked Boromir as Iluvion rested himself for a third time in only a matter of a few metres down the path.  
  
Iluvion nodded gratefully.  
  
The girl slumped between them, mumbling incoherently.  
  
"So, you seemed a little cold towards your charge tonight," observed Boromir. Jluvien shot him a sideways look.  
  
"I fell a bit . . . uncomfortable around her now," said Iluvion, trying to close the topic.  
  
"Oh? What she do?" asked Boromir.  
  
"Nothing that concerns you," sniffed Iluvion.  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow at the elf as they began on the steps up to the girl's room.  
  
"She's very forward," said Iluvion, breaking the silence.  
  
Boromir smiled at having gotten through to the elf.  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
Iluvion bashfully told Boromir the story of the dress as they hauled the comatose girl up the stairs.  
  
Boromir nodded understandingly, he could believe the girl capable of being so blunt. Though, it seemed she had tried every other way of explaining her predicament to the elf everyway she knew how. He felt that sometimes he was the only one in Rivendell who understood how out of place she must have felt. Everyone else knew the ways of the elves. They were the only two human's there.  
  
They heaved her on to her bed moments later. Nat threw her hands about for a while in a nightmare. Boromir went out and fetched some water to splash her face with.  
  
"Where am I?" she asked groggily as she focussed on Iluvion's face, "Where's Thom?"  
  
"Thom is asleep in bed, we've moved him to the room next to you," said Jluvien soothingly.  
  
"Oh, that's good."  
  
"And you are in your own room, get some sleep and drink plenty of water on the morrow."  
  
Nat nodded and rolled over, snoring lightly. Boromir watched her before leaving the room with Iluvion.  
  
He looked up in surprise to see the Elven Lord standing before them.  
  
"I fear she did not know the potency of elven drink," Elrond said with a smile.  
  
Boromir shook his head.  
  
"My Lord, you should have warned her. She does not know the ways of elves," said Boromir sullenly.  
  
Elrond raised his eyebrows at the man.  
  
"You are excused from your duties here," he told Iluvion.  
  
They both waited until the guard had gone out of earshot before looking back at each other.  
  
"She did well, this night."  
  
"That doesn't matter, what about next time? She can't always play it by ear. She's virtually defenceless in this world!" Boromir felt himself rapidly losing hi temper but at that moment he felt so sick by the elves and their high and mighty forbearance, he disregarded the warning signals that flashed caution at him and went on, about to yell when Aragorn came striding down the corridor.  
  
"Boromir!" he began to chide, "I heard you form outside the building, lower your voice or those in the Hall will hear you too!"  
  
Boromir paled visibly and trembled, realising his folly at raising his voice against his host.  
  
"I am sorry, Lord Elrond, it's just that I . . ."  
  
"No matter, Boromir. I understand your concern. I have arranged for her to learn some elvish crafts. Hopefully she will be able to blend into our company."  
  
Boromir nodded bashfully.  
  
"If I may take my leave?" he asked politely.  
  
Elrond nodded and Boromir hurried back to his rooms, kicking himself mentally for having let his temper get the best of him.  
  
Aragorn and Elrond looked at each other and then to the rapidly retreating back of the Heir to the Stewardship of Gondor.  
  
"Elrond?"  
  
"Yes, Estel?"  
  
"No matter, my lord. It's just that . . . that man worries me, must he come with us?"  
  
"Yes, I feel he has an important part to play."  
  
Aragorn nodded and left Elrond alone to walk back to the Hall alone with his thoughts.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Bleurgh. This chappy's a bit shorter than the other ones. Well, before I extended it a bit. Will leave you to review now. Hope you all enjoyed! I really want to get Thom back into the scene though. Maybe I'll let Thom take over the PoV next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews! Since this is a short one, I'll put in mythanks that seem to have accumulated over the psat week or two.  
  
Alina11: Thanks, I'm hoping that I can have two separate stories with Thom and Nat now. Don't worry about the Boromir thing, I will not cheat! I promise you! Plus, Since this isn't a tenth walker, Nat can't go with Boromir . . . I tell you, you're the plot bunny that's latched onto my ankle! Stop it! I've got so many ideas! Argh! Make it stop! *thinks up another ending to story* Nooo! *is confused* *runs in circles* *smacks into wall* Oww . . . *looks up* *eyes widen* Perfect!  
  
Me: I've kept writing . . . where are your reviews? :D  
  
Seductive Gypsy: Not a Legomance definitely, and I've kept it up.  
  
Ssam: Nullus anxietas, mate.  
  
Stephanie-Priz: Glad you liked.  
  
Porcelain Teacup: Teehee. Yes, poor widdle Boromir.. :D  
  
Mandy5: I'm going, I'm going!  
  
sqky0o7: Heh heh, Shaitan's still trying to destroy every wal in sight . . .  
  
The Green Sorceress: Umm, I'll email you now, ks?  
  
Thequeenbitch: Updated! And as you can now read, it's Jluvien!  
  
Tindomiel: Thanks for such great crits! You're one of the main reviewers that have kept my hopes up for my fics. Thanks again for being so supportive and detailed in your reviews!  
  
Ri0t-Gurl: No way! The Legions of Evil Penguins belong to ME! Mwahahaha! Thanks for the review!  
  
Oracle: *pokes Oracle back* Chappy's are up!  
  
SugarIcing: Glad you liked. Yeah, Nat's a toughie. She's still a girl but she's learned not to take things at face value, if you know what I mean.  
  
Anaire Eruthiadeth: Congrats! You got the mistake! Wow, I didn't expect it to be picked up on so quickly! I didn't realise till after I posted but when no one pointed it out I thought maybe I could put it as a little competition.  
  
Haki: So many names! Hmmm, I'll et you know next chappy, okies?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Alrighties, that's it for now! See you next time I update! 


	9. Awakening

A/N: Yay! Lots of reviews that time! Makes me happy and all of a sudden . . . Wheeeee! Feel's so good. Hmm, might affect this chappy a bit. Hoom. Well, time for a bit of a low down. It's been a few days after she's arrived and the Fellowship has been chosen. If you'll check the copy of Lotr next to you, you'll find that the Fellowship won't leave for another two months. What am I going to do in that time? Hoom. Whoa, just had vision of scrolling down to 65th chapter to where the Fellowship leave *blinks* I'll have to be careful that doesn't happen, eh? Unless Nat's time in Rivendell is amazingly eventful. Hoom, well, I'd better let you go read this fic, huh? I'm feeling very type-ative today.  
  
Following scene is actually kind of true. I get it every Sunday morning . . .  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Awakening  
  
Rating: Pfft. If you don't know it by now . . .  
  
Summary: Hmm, touched on this in my author's note. Can't highlight in these docs, so you'll just have to find it yourself.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Thom woke up under a table.  
  
For a moment he was a bit woozy, trying to work out which way was up until he realised that the heavy pressure on his legs were being caused by his playmates.  
  
He pushed them off and scrambled to his feet as quickly as a five-year-old boy could. Around him there were many sitting in corners still drinking quietly and a couple were laughing gaily as they continued to dance.  
  
He wandered out of the hall to go to his rooms, and then remembered that they had moved him in next to his sister.  
  
He went up to an elf that was staring expectantly towards one of the buildings to ask for directions.  
  
"Excuse me," Thom began.  
  
The elf looked down with surprise.  
  
"Ah, so you must be Nat's younger brother. I have heard about you."  
  
Thom started but stared up at the elf determinedly.  
  
"I need to find my room. It's next to Nat's if that helps, sir."  
  
The elf smiled fondly at the young boy and bent over to pick him up.  
  
"Here, I'll carry you over there. It's in the guest wings."  
  
"Thank you, sir," said Thom shyly.  
  
Elrohir lifted the boy and swung him onto his back, then turned to head for the guestrooms.  
  
"My name is Elrohir, Thom. I'm going to teach your sister archery and she is late."  
  
"My sister's always late," Thom said solemnly.  
  
"Is she? Well, I'll have to cure her of that soon enough," Elrohir said with a chuckle but then stopped suddenly as an idea hit him, "Thom? Would you like to help me?"  
  
Thomas giggled strangely as he thought of waking his sister after what had happened the night before.  
  
Elrohir took that as a hearty "yes, please!" and strode towards Nat's room with more vigour than he had earlier.  
  
At the door, Elrohir found Iluvion leaning against it wearily.  
  
"I'm sorry, my lord," he said as he straightened to salute Elrohir. Elrohir stopped him with a wink and entered Nat's room quietly. The guard followed close behind.  
  
Nat could be found lying spread eagled on the bed with the sheets twisted around her legs, the blankets had been thrown on the floor sometime in the night and the curtains had been drawn tightly over the windows to the balcony.  
  
Elrohir checked to see if Nat really was awake.  
  
Her brown hair was tussled and knotted, spread out against the pillow. Her mouth hung slightly open with a bit of drool in the corner. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her arms encircled the pillow, sheets and part of a remaining blanket.  
  
"Naaaaaaahhhht," whispered Thom, shaking his sister gently.  
  
Elrohir winked at Thom as Nat mumbled something and turned away from them. He pointed to the curtains, which Thomas went to dutifully.  
  
Elrohir looked behind him to see Iluvion holding the full washbasin and smirking.  
  
The elf lord looked around for something else for himself, but had to content him self with grabbing the sheets at the bottom of the bed.  
  
"On the count of three," he said quietly, looking to his fellows who looked to him expectantly.  
  
"One . . . two . . . THREE!"  
  
With an almighty heave, he swept the sheets of the tussled figure that immediately curled up into a tight foetal position. As soon as the sheets were free, Iluvion threw the cold water over Nat who yelled.  
  
"Argh!" she screamed rolling over and nearly falling off the bed.  
  
Thom opened the curtains quickly, letting the noonday sunlight flood into the room.  
  
"Aaarghhh!" Nat squealed as she finally fell of the bed into a heap on the floor. She tried to crawl under the bed to hide from the light.  
  
"No!" she scrambled for a hold on the bed frame but Jluvien held her ankle tight and pulled her from the bedposts.  
  
The girl kicked out, screaming, and twisted away from a surprised Jluvien and scampered under the bed before anyone else could grab hold of her.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir, who were discussing matters of Osgiliath before they were interrupted, heard the ruckus. Looking to each other, they took the steps two at a time and reached Nat's room in a matter of seconds.  
  
"Elrohir!" snapped Aragorn, "What are you doing to her, to make her scream so?"  
  
Elrohir was at that moment under the bed trying to drag the girl out who had curled in the middle and stubbornly returned to sleep. A thud echoed out from under the bed as his brother's voice reached his ears.  
  
He crawled out and looked up to see Aragorn tapping his foot behind an anxious looking Boromir.  
  
"Why did she scream?" he asked.  
  
Thom grinned up, munching some of Nat's untouched breakfast.  
  
"Waking her up," he said with his mouth full.  
  
Elrohir gave him a look and then went back under the bed.  
  
"You poke her and she'll roll over to me, where I'll drag her out this side. You come over and help me, Estel."  
  
Aragorn shook his head forcefully.  
  
"I'm not getting into this," he said and quit the room.  
  
Boromir looked at a loss as Elrohir then called his name.  
  
Thom gave him a little push towards the bed and Boromir reluctantly got down on his knees.  
  
"So you decided to join us?" smirked Elrohir in the darkness as Boromir wriggled forward.  
  
"Why must you wake her? She had a rough night last night."  
  
"She has an archery lesson today, and I've been waiting most of the morning for her."  
  
"But she's tired . . ."  
  
"I can't do it later on this afternoon because I have to go on a patrol with Estel, and if I don't get this archery lesson done today, Father will skin me," explained Elrohir.  
  
"Plus, this is kind of fun," he added as an after thought, "Now, Jluvien!"  
  
Iluvion poked hard at Nat's spine, forcing her to instinctively flinch away. Immediately, Elrohir and Boromir dragged her out from under the bed and into the middle of the room.  
  
Nat moaned and stretched full length on the floor, looking up at the puffing Boromir and Elrohir.  
  
"Whadoyouwan'?" she asked, yawning.  
  
"Archery lesson. Five minutes. Archery Fields," Elrohir told her and left.  
  
Boromir looked helplessly at Nat and then left her with her brother to get dressed.  
  
Iluvion had already left by now and Nat turned to her brother.  
  
"Stop smirking," she told him gruffly before getting to her feet and dragging herself to the wardrobe.  
  
She flung it open. All the robes were gone!  
  
She went through the extra sheets, trying to find some clothes to wear.  
  
Thom wandered over, curious and picked out one of the sheets.  
  
"Wear this," he told her, imperviously.  
  
"What as a toga?"  
  
"It's a dress, Nat."  
  
She looked at the parachute and tried to hold it up to her frame and blinked.  
  
"It's a pretty big dress. Why can't I wear pants?" she turned back to the wardrobe, throwing the dresses out.  
  
"Nat," her brother said patiently.  
  
Nat turned around, her brother was standing on the bed, holding the dress up expectantly.  
  
"Do I have to?" she whined at him, going back to the wardrobe, only to find there was nothing but the dresses inside.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Nat looked back and glared at him. She made her way over to where her brother stood and looked at the dress critically.  
  
Sighing, she put the dress on under the watchful eye of her brother.  
  
"How's this?" she asked him, resigned to her fate.  
  
"I'd run if I were you, Elrohir gets mad when you make him wait."  
  
Nat cringed in reminder to her wake up call and slipped on some red slippers. Running down the stairs, she looked around for the archery fields.  
  
"South!" yelled Boromir from across the yard, pointing.  
  
She nodded gratefully to him, but gave him a glare afterwards for good measure when she remembered that he'd helped Elrohir in getting her up that morning. She left the courtyard with the satisfied image of Boromir's confused face but sped up as she saw Elrohir in the distance.  
  
"I'm . . . here," she said panting, as she got to where Elrohir was standing.  
  
"And you didn't bring your bow?" Elrohir sighed dramatically, "Never mind, I brought an extra one in case you forgot yours. Now, I want you to draw it . . ."  
  
Nat went to pick up an arrow that was sticking up from the ground, but Elrohir slapped her hand away as soon as she touched it.  
  
"That's later, when I know your not going to hurt anyone with it. For now, just draw the bow and hold it there."  
  
Nat took the bow in two hands and attempted to pull back the string.  
  
"Further . . ." said Elrohir, watching her struggle to bend the wood.  
  
"I'm trying!" she complained, "It's too hard."  
  
"Nonsense. You'll get the hang of it soon enough," said Elrohir, thoroughly enjoying himself, "Now, I want you to pretend you can draw the bow while I correct your horrendous posture."  
  
Elrohir went on to talk to her about the etiquette of the archery fields, that she must organize a time for herself to practise everyday, and not get in the way of more experienced archers.  
  
As he did this, he moved her foot to the right, squared her shoulders and moved her neck so as to mould her into the most uncomfortable position she'd ever had to hold.  
  
"There," he said when he had finished.  
  
Nat raised her eyebrow at him as he went around her.  
  
"Don't move! I want you to try and draw the bow now . . . No, don't change anything! Just draw your elbow back with your shoulder . . ."  
  
For the next hour he made her stay in that position and draw her bow, tuttering at her if she let her body slacken or release the string.  
  
Nat grumbled under her breath but did as the elf bid her. She relied on his father for a place to stay, and she still didn't know how she could repay them for their kindness. The least she could do was bear up under a picky instructor.  
  
Elrohir sighed, shook his head and turned away from her to look over the fields.  
  
"You are free to go. I can do no more work with you now."  
  
Nat gratefully stretched out her cramped muscles and put the bow down.  
  
"You'll need that."  
  
Nat looked up.  
  
"I want you do another hour's worth of practice tonight sometime."  
  
Nat groaned and picked up the bow again and trudged off.  
  
Elrohir turned and lifted an eyebrow at the girl's retreating back.  
  
She was terrible with the bow, but hopefully his brother would be able to teach her to defend herself with the dagger she has stolen off Boromir.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nat let the bow swing idly off one of her fingers as she made her way back to her rooms. All she wanted to do was lie down. A blinding headache had hit her only half an hour before, reminding her that she wasn't going to go without punishment for her carelessness the night before.  
  
She looked up as she felt, rather than saw someone come bounding up to her.  
  
"Ready for your next lesson?"  
  
"Elrohir, we just had . . ." she began.  
  
"Elladan here, his twin brother, obviously. Come on, the yard won't be clear forever, you know." With that he took a hold of her hand and dragged her towards a cleared area.  
  
"Now," said Elladan, picking up two objects and flicking them expertly around his hands, "I am to teach you how to fight with these."  
  
"With what?" asked Nat, trying to get a glimpse at what he was spinning in his hands.  
  
Elladan abruptly offered one of the knives hilt-first to Nat who picked it up awkwardly.  
  
"Now, first you need to know how to hold . . . ah, you're a natural."  
  
Nat looked down at the dagger.  
  
"Just place your thumb so . . .Yes. That's it.  
  
"Now I want you to slash at the air in front of you, like so . . ." Elladan demonstrated.  
  
Nat blinked.  
  
"Could you do that a little, err, slower? I didn't quite catch that," she asked.  
  
Elladan repeated the attack a fair bit more slowly. Nat repeated the action.  
  
The elf slowly shook his head at her.  
  
"No, no," he said and begun to show her, move by move, how to get the motion just right and how to be able to move back quickly in case of a counter attack.  
  
Nat enjoyed this a fair bit more than her archery lessons, but her arms still hurt from having to keep the strain of holding the bow up for an hour.  
  
She was a bit sloppy, but for a beginner, she wasn't bad, Elladan told her later.  
  
"Have you eaten?" he asked suddenly, "I noticed that my brother pulled you straight out of bed and down to the fields very quickly."  
  
"No, I haven't," replied Nat.  
  
Well, then. You keep this up and I'll go fetch us something to eat. Its several hours past noon."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: So, how was that? *Yawns* Gosh, I'm tired. Tis very late. Hoom, was told by a friend that this was as MS that you could get but then she read some REAL Mary Sues and well . . . I'm proud to say she does not consider this as one any longer. 


	10. A New Aquaintance

A/N: Okies, in response to a couple of reviews, I just want to clear out a couple of things.  
  
You've got to all remember that Nat is one of three humans in Rivendell, as not many humans have been there, Elrohir and Elladan are both used to elven reflexes, strengths and posture. Elves have a natural grace and strength whereas Nat only has a few months of being on the streets to advance her (limited) skills.  
  
The reason Elrohir and Elladan have taught her is mainly because their father and brother both know of Nat's humanity and awkwardness in a city of elves. Hmm, will clear it out a bit more in this chapter, I think. I should have done so earlier.  
  
I'm trying hard to not make anyone OOC and if I do tell me and I'll do my best to fix it up. So, as far as Mary Sue-ness goes, this is only one in the way of "girl falls into ME" thing and some tragic background - but the tragic-ness doesn't really affect her, I'd like to think, she's just coped. She has no special powers, no affections for any canon characters (nor do they have any affections for her, except for Boromir - but that is more of a crush - he hasn't seen a girl in months, let alone a human one, but then he's like 40 while she's only 16/17 as one reviewer pointed out and . . . Canon! Remember the canon!). Physically, she's nothing special. Worn. Thin yes, but disgustingly so. Her eyes are a pretty normal shade of hazel. She's not "better" than anyone else. Want to nitpick? Go to this site: htt p:/ /ww w.merryc oz .o rg/pape rs/MA RYSU E . HT M, which pretty much lists the different types of Mary Sues and ways to recognize them. I admit (ouch, there goes my pride) that this is kind of Mary Sue-ish but never as bad as most.  
  
Ok, now that's cleared out, let's get on with it! Oh yes, Jluvien/Iluvion. I like both names. And they're similar enough. But *cries* I can't decide! Will hopefully get act together by next chappy.  
  
Oh yeah, Lotr don't belong to me. (saw it again today, very cool. Teary at credits ~ weird, no? It was the song, I think. *sigh* The whole thing has just ended.So finally. That's what got to me, I think).  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I've redone this chapter because I didn't like the way I had Boromir and Nat fight. I thought Nat was being too immature and "teeny". And I think I can write better then that.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Run of the Mill  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: *sigh* Nat and her brother end up in Middle Earth, meeting various members of the canon and so slowly adapt to the ways of life in Rivendell . . . for the moment anyway.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Boromir sat alone with his thoughts on a balcony overlooking Rivendell.  
  
He glanced down and saw Nat sparring with one of Elrond's sons. Her fumbles were laughable but determination showed in her face. The pair had stopped for a moment to let Nat catch her breath when Elladan had left the yard.  
  
He could not help but feel sorry for her. But he had to be careful not to let it show or she would run away like she did last time. Except that she'd run away with a lot more than his horse. She seemed to have had a rough life, and since Elrond had confirmed her story of these . . . televisions and cars he had felt a lot more isolated from her.  
  
Why did she plague his thoughts? She was human, yes. The only one he could relax around with here. But why couldn't he just let her do what she willed? He must feel some sort of protection over her. Yes, that was it. She was so young . . . and in such a world that was threatened to be consumed by the forces of evil.  
  
He shuddered as he thought of the quest he and eight others had been charged with. Why could they not use it themselves and beat back the enemy? It would be a much smoother course of action and yet Mithrandir and Lord Elrond had been adamant.  
  
He thought to the hobbit, Frodo. Such a responsibility handed to one so small. He could not possibly . . . but Boromir cut off this thought in respect for the older men. They knew what they were doing. Even if he did not agree so whole-heartedly, their decisions should be recognized and unquestioned.  
  
He gave a heavy sigh and took a long draught of the cool wine in his hand.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elladan soon returned with several pieces of fowl, some bread and a salad for them to share. Nat looked on the feast hungrily and rapidly devoured her share before looking to Elladan, wide eyed.  
  
He laughed and gave her half of his meat which was as quickly eaten. Nat lay back and looked at the sky.  
  
"What next?" she asked Elladan, contentedly.  
  
"Next?" he mused, "Why, I have to show you how to practice your knives so that you can improve on yourself. I will check on you occasionally but you will have to develop your skills on your own. Elves here are extremely busy. Especially with the fall of Saruman to the south . . ."  
  
"Who's Saruman?"  
  
"No one you need to worry about. But it is more than a little worrying."  
  
"He's dead?"  
  
"No. Worse than that I'm afraid," Elladan looked down sorrowfully, but quickly hid his emotions and grabbed Nat's hand dragging her to her feet.  
  
"Come on, we do not have much time before sundown and I would like to get through these instructions before dark."  
  
Nat sighed and picked up her weapons, holding them in position slightly lowered in anticipation for his attack.  
  
"First," he began as they circled each other carefully, "you need to know your knives. Know that they will cut you if you let them."  
  
He expertly flipped them over his wrists and then spun them, swapping hands as he threw them above his head, and finishing off with a slight flair.  
  
Nat's eyes widened.  
  
"When you practice this, try to keep them in the sheathes. When you feel comfortable, try it with the naked blade."  
  
Elladan smiled at her.  
  
"Remember, you are still a beginner so do not try too much at once. This will take years to perfect and you must work at it."  
  
"I will not be here that long," Nat replied coldly.  
  
"Oh?" asked Elladan as he lunged for a quick contest.  
  
"I'll be back home before you know it," she panted as she parried his strikes as best she could.  
  
"Ah yes, your world. Full of speeding carriages and flickering images."  
  
"You think I make it up," she accused.  
  
"Nay, my father confirmed it for me. But still, I find it hard to believe," he said calmly as she awkwardly rained down attacks on him.  
  
"It's true and I'm going back. I'm going to get Thom in a school. I'm going to get a job and find a place to live. I'm going to be rich and famous and do whatever I want."  
  
Elladan pulled back from her.  
  
"You do not always get what you want," he warned.  
  
"I'll get what I want."  
  
Elladan shrugged.  
  
"Just remember to practice everyday for an hour or two, same as your archery. Slash at the air or try and find someone who will spar with you. There are plenty who come here after their patrols to hone their skills."  
  
Nat nodded.  
  
"I will go back," she vowed.  
  
"Perhaps," came the answer.  
  
She huffed in impatience and sheathed her blades.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
That night, Nat was troubled by dreams once more.  
  
Fire.  
  
It burned the house around her, it burned her brother, Boromir, the elves, everyone she had met. And through the fire she saw her father standing. Wrathful, with his hate bent on her. She drowned in the fate that enveloped her, suffocating. His eyes pierced her mind and she fell to her knees. Pain.  
  
The darkness came and arms took her away.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Nat! Nat!" she woke to the sound of her brother. He had clambered onto the bed and was holding her head in his arms, like the arms in the darkness had comforted her . . .  
  
"What is it, Thom?" she groaned, quickly letting the dream slide back and be forgotten.  
  
Thom looked at his sister seriously.  
  
"I had a bad dream," he began.  
  
Nat gave him a lopsided smile.  
  
"So did I, but how about you hop in and keep them away together, hmm?" Thom grinned and snuggled under the blankets, tangling his arms around his older sister and burying his head in her shoulder.  
  
They lay like that for a long time before slowly dropping off into a dreamless sleep.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Iluvion couldn't believe this but felt that it couldn't be put off any longer. He strode purposefully towards Nat's door and lifted his arm to knock.  
  
"Do I have to?" he turned and asked Glorfindel.  
  
"What makes you think I want to take along a girl who knows nothing of riding on a patrol? But we must do as Lord Elrond asks. He wishes her to get out a bit more."  
  
Iluvion sighed and made a deep growl at the back of throat before knocking on the dor quickly.  
  
"Nat?" he asked tentatively.  
  
He heard a slight groan come from behind the door and turned back to Glorfindel.  
  
"I can't . . ." but gave up on finishing the sentence when the other elf gave him an appraising look.  
  
"Fine," he muttered. Slowly, he pushed open the door to find Nat lying with her brother in her arms. Every now and then she mumbled something and shifted her body around.  
  
Iluvion pursed his lips thoughtfully.  
  
"I know you're awake," he said stoutly. Nat only murmured something and turned away from his to her brother.  
  
"You don't want a repeat of yesterday, do you?"  
  
Nat groaned again and rubbed at her eyes.  
  
"Wha'? Oh Iluvion. . . what are you doing in my room?"  
  
Iluvion rolled his eyes.  
  
"In an attempt to keep you busy, Lord Elrond has decreed that you will accompany his close friend and advisor Glorfindel on a patrol of the outer regions of Rivendell."  
  
Nat blinked.  
  
"Ok then."  
  
"Good. I'll come by to take you to your breakfast in a moment and then we will head off."  
  
Nat grunted and rolled out of bed as Jluvien left her alone with her brother.  
  
Soon enough she had crawled to her wardrobe and dragged on another dress when Iluvion knocked and opened the doors to her room.  
  
"What?" she asked confused.  
  
"How long must you take? Everyone is waiting!"  
  
"But I haven't eaten . . ."  
  
"Here," Iluvion threw some bread to her, "Why are you wearing that for?"  
  
"Wearing what? This dress?"  
  
"How do you expect to be able to . . . oh, nevermind. Quickly!"  
  
Nat readjusted the dress and slipped on some shoes.  
  
"Don't you have any boots?" groaned Elrohir.  
  
"No, I don't. My entire wardrobe is full of flimsy dresses and socks," sniffed Nat haughtily, "And it's not my fault."  
  
Nat grabbed her belt and tied her sheathes with her knives to it.  
  
"They are slippers, not . . . socks. Now quickly, quickly."  
  
"What about my brother?"  
  
"He will find the hobbits to play with today if he manages to avoid, my Lord. Now will you just . .."  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Nat said as she swept past him, nearly barrelling into a tall blonde elf.  
  
"Glorfindel! We were just on our way," Iluvion saluted.  
  
The blonde elf looked at Nat.  
  
"This is why we have been kept waiting? Doesn't she have any appropriate clothing?" he asked Iluvion, ignoring Nat who glowered sullenly.  
  
"No, I do not," she interrupted before Jluvien could open his mouth.  
  
Glorfindel simply turned and led the way downstairs.  
  
Iluvion gave Nat a cold look, "Do not presume to talk to Glorfindel like that. He is highly respected."  
  
Nat shrugged and followed Glorfindel's retreating back, leaving Iluvion to throw his hands up in frustration before hurrying past her to walk slightly behind Glorfindel.  
  
Glorfindel led them to the stables. Where several elves had already mounted up with their horses dancing impatiently.  
  
As their gaze fell on the girl they were to take with them, they made it clear that they were not impressed.  
  
Nat chose not to notice, in fact. She was fairly busy appraising the brute she was to ride. He was a metre taller than her and had dark eyes that threatened her well being if she was to ever going try and go anywhere near him.  
  
Glorfindel was holding the reins and waiting for her to come and take them. Cautiously she took them and went to the side, the stirrup was just below her chest. And she was wearing a dress. With elves watching.  
  
She growled quietly and looked back at Glorfindel who ignored her as well as he had earlier on. She then glared at Iluvion who managed to avoid her gaze for a few seconds before giving up.  
  
"Is there a problem, my lady?"  
  
Nat snorted and put her hand to her head and then went on tip toes to touch the saddle.  
  
"You feel it is too big, my lady?"  
  
Nat snorted.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes, my lady. Do you wish to pick out your own from the stables?"  
  
"I wouldn't know one thing about horses. So I think I'll trust you to come out with one that I can safely get on without getting bitten or end up advertising anything to the general populace."  
  
Glorfindel gave a slight cough.  
  
"I'm afraid that that is the last horse available in the stables. You will see that the rest of our horses are just as large so we cannot trade places with you. Also, if we were to give you one of the ponies, it would not be able to keep the pace as this one would. I assure you it will be quite safe if you . . ."  
  
"Right," Nat said, making a decision, "Turn around."  
  
The elves looked baffled and Glorfindel rolled his eyes deftly.  
  
"I assure you that none here care for that."  
  
Nat glared.  
  
"I won't go, then."  
  
Glrofindel was about to argue when Iluvion stepped forward to intervene.  
  
"My lady?" he asked as he offered his hands as a stepladder to the horse.  
  
"Thank you," she accepted before quickly moving from Jluvien's hands to the saddle, "At least someone around here has some sense," she sniffed, ignoring an indifferent Glorfindel.  
  
Her feet could barely reach the stirrups and already she felt the horse rebelling against her. She clutched at the reins tightly.  
  
The horse began to prance, unsettling her.  
  
"Relax, my lady," said Iluvion beside her on his own horse before leaning over and whispering something in the horse's ear.  
  
She slowly let her shoulders draw back and her back straighten as the horse began to follow one of the others' in front. She soon tied the reins to the saddle and accustomed herself to the swaying of the horse. It would follow the others obediently enough for the rest of the day.  
  
It was near midday when they stopped on the edge of the forest. They over looked a plain to the south, almost immediately the elves around her peered into the distance.  
  
Glorfindel moved back among the ranks and whispered something the Jluvien who seemed to pale slightly.  
  
"What is it?" asked Nat trying to lean over into the conversation. Glorfindel frown and continued in Elvish.  
  
Iluvion nodded.  
  
"A small force, not to worry," Glorfindel said to Nat. He then turned his force and moved back into the lead.  
  
"Small force?" she asked Iluvion.  
  
"Orcs, I suppose. They do not usually come so far north."  
  
"Orcs?" Nat snorted in disbelief.  
  
"Quiet!" commanded one of the elves in a harsh whisper.  
  
"You will soon see, my lady. They will not be more than a dozen, I hope. Scouting perhaps for Saruman." Iluvion drew in a sharp intake of breath as he spoke the name, as if cursing it.  
  
Nat opened her mouth to speak but horses in front had moved on, leading her own horse. Unbalanced, Nat forgot about asking any more questions and focussed on not falling off.  
  
Oh, how she detested horses.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
That's it. Hope it was better than that other chapter. Shaitan keeps me from getting slack. 


	11. A Waning Of Hope

A/N: I completely rewrote the last chapter (I found myself agreeing with Chibi Chingo) sorry but those who have been following this might want to go back and read over it. *looks at Shaitan innocently* What? *Shaitan raises eyebrow s.l.o.w.l.y.*  
  
Disclaimer: Lotr is not mine, the book nor film. Damn.  
  
Fine. *Growls at Shaitan* I was too lazy to do an "in a nutshell". Happy?  
  
*Shaitan nods and points to Word Doc*  
  
Fine! I'm starting, I'm starting!  
  
PS. Happy Australia Day! And I'm going with Iluvion. It's the closest to Jluvien and it sounds the most like him, I think. Thanks to all those who put in the other names!  
  
~Eep. That was nearly two weeks ago. It's been that long for me to start this? Damn.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: A Waning Of Hope  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Completely canon, hopefully. I don't claim to be a Tolkien expert but I have read the book (albeit over many months on and off), so I'll try not to go into anything I know nothing about.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Moments later they came across a clearing. The entire party was quiet with the horses making no sound with their hooves among the leaves. Nat was unfazed. Iluvion seemed tense, as did most of the elves. Glorfindel alone reminded cool and relaxed.  
  
Nat scoffed at the idea of these . . . orcs. Yeah, these elves were a little weird, granted. But these black skinned, mutated orcs? Please . . .  
  
Nat stiffened as she heard some inhumane yowls that certainly would not have belonged to any animal she had heard of.  
  
She looked ahead to Glorfindel who was silently directing half of his patrol to one side. She looked beyond into a deep gully. She recognised it as the one she had entered on her way to Rivendell, that first day when she had met Iluvion. As her eyes strained to break through the thick bush she saw movement. As her ears grew accustomed to the forest sounds she picked out a clear ring of metal. She shivered as she saw a glimpse of some dark, jagged looking armour.  
  
All of a sudden, Glorfindel wheeled down the side, taking several of his remaining men with him. Three remained behind with Nat who tried to see what was happening below her.  
  
At that moment, the other half of Glorfindel's patrol burst through the bushes from the southern entrance to the gully. There was a terrible scream and both groups disappeared into the bushes.  
  
The leaves rustled, but revealed nothing as to what was happening below. Nat looked to Iluvion who seemed unruffled by the fray beneath.  
  
A last screech was cut off swiftly and a birdcall emanated from the gully. The elves in front moved forward into the canopy and Nat's own horse followed them. Nat looked back at Iluvion fearfully, but he did not notice.  
  
Coming down to meet Glorfindel, Nat saw the gruesome bodies spread on the ground. Their open mouths gaped up at her revealing rows of jagged and rotting teeth. Their hands were curled and gnarled, scrabbling . . . Their dark blood still oozed from their gaping wounds and their dirty mismatched armour struck fear in her heart.  
  
Her horse passed one body that suddenly coughed, the creatures eyes looked up cruelly at her and its mouth broke into a cruel grin as his arm arched back and Nat saw the dagger it held.  
  
A sudden arrow swept past her, thudding duly into the orcs neck. It gurgled and tried to make another half-hearted attempt before being hit with another arrow to the chest. It rolled back, the eyes staring blankly up at Nat, imploring.  
  
Her horse had remained calm throughout and Nat twisted around to find Glorfindel coolly putting his quiver back in its place.  
  
Nat gaped at him. She had never met a killer before. She had never seen death such as this. She had seen cruelty dealt but this was cold hearted and unfeeling. The elves were wandering through the clearing still, thrusting a spear into some of the bodies that littered the serene glade. They did it with some sort automatic movement. A quick pull back, jab hard through the chest, any movement warranting another thrust and then onto the next orc. Her eyes widened slowly as she took in the composed manner of the elves around her.  
  
How could they kill so readily and swiftly? They had no fear or hate apparent. They just . . . killed.  
  
Nat felt a wave of nausea overwhelm her as she fell forward and emptied her hasty breakfast over that last orc.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Dreams of her lost sister haunted her. Over and over she saw rather than she had heard, the little body being pushed under the water. She saw rather than felt the bubbles of air slowly disappearing.  
  
She could see her drunken father and his thick fingers pushing her sister's head down into the cold reaches of the river.  
  
She felt herself falling, and looking up she saw her father's face, not wrathful but full of sorrow and worry.  
  
His features were worn and wrinkles had begun to shape his face to that of an old man. He seemed almost grandfatherly, looking down on her descent and actually caring. She jerked as she thought of that. Her father was a monster and a murderer she told herself.  
  
A monster, a murderer, a monster, a murderer, a monster . . .  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She woke to find herself back in her room and once more, she was tucked in tight. She squirmed and worked at the sheets until they slowly relinquished their grip.  
  
She moved to sit up when a sudden pain from her chest stopped her. She winced as she prodded her body, checking for the bruises.  
  
She thought back to . . . no, she did not want to remember. She couldn't.  
  
Nat pushed that afternoon's events out of her mind into the closed off section of her memory that she liked to store the past. Forgotten and irretrievable, or so she preferred to think.  
  
She gradually made her way to the wardrobe, and after getting dressed, went to the door and looked into the corridor.  
  
For once, she did not find Iluvion waiting for her, either reading a book while leaning against a pillar or staring reproachably at her with his arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.  
  
Taken aback, she made her way down to the Hall. The entire House was seemingly deserted. Here and there she saw faceless elves scurry to and fro on nameless errands but she felt lost. She could not find her brother.  
  
All at once afraid, she ran to Elrond's chambers and tried to open the doors. They were locked.  
  
She banged on them anxiously until they suddenly opened.  
  
"Yes?" asked Glorfindel, adamantly.  
  
His huge bulk blocked the way into Lord Elrond's chambers. Nat found herself bouncing around trying to find a way in.  
  
"What's going on? Where is everybody?" asked Nat, irritated by her behavior.  
  
"We are holding an extremely important meeting, and if you will excuse me, I must return to it."  
  
Glorfindel made to close the door in Nat's face, but she stubbornly put her foot in the gap. Glorfindel frowned.  
  
"Do not try to hurt yourself."  
  
"What is going on?" repeated Nat.  
  
"We are having a meeting," replied Glorfindel again.  
  
"About . . .?"  
  
"The orcs, if you must know. It does not concern you so if you would please . . ." Glorfindel subtly slid her foot out of the doorway and closed the door in Nat's face.  
  
Furious, Nat begun a tirade of words that really shouldn't belong in the Halls. She punctuated each sentence with a loud knock on the door. She was left ignored and rejected.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"The orcs are becoming increasingly bold, it will not be long before they begin their dangerous invasion of Eriador."  
  
Elrond looked over his councilors, each weighed up their options, and how they were to produce their own opinions and advice to him. He saw indecision etched on each face . . . except for Glorfindel who had a hard and resolute air.  
  
"They would not dare . . . not against the might of the elves," said Erestor.  
  
"What might?" asked Glorfindel harshly, coming out of his reverie, "The hordes of Isengard are strong."  
  
"Stronger than the elves?"  
  
"I fear it."  
  
Elrond watched them both and then turned to the men he had asked to join them.  
  
"Boromir, you searched wide in your quest for Rivendell, did you come across the force of Saruman?"  
  
Boromir considered this carefully, thinking over his words before he spoke.  
  
"Aye, I saw. But did not know of their master. I wondered often at how they roamed so wide and free. Many a village I saw burned and forsaken on my journey here. They are no ordinary orc . . . I heard some call them the Uruk-hai."  
  
Elrond nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes . . . but what to do? We can let them simply run the land ravage."  
  
"We can barely defend ourselves, my Lord," said Galdor, "The time of the elves wanes. Our strength leaves us. We cannot hope to defend the outer lands of Eriador."  
  
"I would offer the help of Mirkwood, but I fear we too, are besieged with orcs from Mordor."  
  
An argument ensued, involving Aragorn, in defense of the unprotected villages of the land and Galdor, who felt it better that they defend Rivendell.  
  
"What of the Dunedain? We will defend Eriador," said Aragorn.  
  
"You forget so quickly that you shall not be there to lead them, Estel. You have a greater task ahead of you," Elrond cut in.  
  
"The Dunedain are a small force, you cannot hope that they can do what we elves cannot," countered Galdor.  
  
"Enough, Galdor," snapped Elrond, "We are not able to defend all that are threatened, though it grieves me to admit. For a while, we will hold them back through quick raids and ambushes but no more. I have no wish to lose any more men."  
  
"What I am more worried about," began Glorfindel, "Is how they came to that gully which leads to Rivendell. Several other patrols have met forces of orcs coming increasingly nearer to Rivendell. I have reason to believe that they will attack us here first, before going on to other regions of Eriador. Saruman will want to rid himself of any threat."  
  
"The least he could do would be to cut us off from Lothlorien," shrugged Erestor.  
  
"Yes, but so close to Rivendell? He is looking for entry into our Halls."  
  
Elrond rubbed his temples, worried.  
  
"All the more reason to keep the patrols close," said Galdor.  
  
"All the more reason to spread them in hope of catching these patrols before they find us!" argued Aragorn, "If they find the patrols concentrated here, they will surely know where to find us!"  
  
"Saruman already knows where we are!"  
  
"But does he know the entrance?"  
  
The squabble soon became quite heated with the two shouting at the top of their voices.  
  
Glorfindel sighed and caught a sudden movement from the dresser in the corner. He moved towards it quickly, gaining some interest from Elrond.  
  
Bending down he found Thom sitting under it, his hands over his eyes.  
  
"Who is this?" asked Glorfindel, dragging the boy out from under the dresser, "Another of those hobbits, is it?"  
  
"No," said Elrond calmly. He stepped towards Thom and took him out of Glorfindel's arms and sat the boy on a chair.  
  
"This is Natalie's little brother, Thom," said Legolas, quietly.  
  
The elves and men looked to Thom who squirmed in the chair.  
  
"Don't hit me . . ." he pleaded quietly, "Please . .. I won't do it again . . I promise!"  
  
"We will not harm you," Elrond said frowning. Thom slowly uncurled and faced the unsmiling adults.  
  
"Go now, but do not speak of what you have heard," Glorfindel said coldly. Thom jumped off the chair and pushed through the group and rushed for the door, fumbling with the lock and rushing out of the room.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He ran into the garden and immediately collided with his sister.  
  
"Thom! Where have you been! I've been worried sick!" said Nat, but she soon stopped fussing and noticed Thom's pale face.  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
"Umm . . ."  
  
"You know you can tell me," Nat said, taking her brother's shoulders and looking into his eyes.  
  
Thom was torn in indecision.  
  
"The blond one said I wasn't to tell anyone . .."  
  
"You can tell me though, right? I'm your sister."  
  
Thom made his decision, his sister needed to know. She had to take care of him, how could she if she didn't know anything?  
  
He told her everything he had heard and saw.  
  
Nat was quiet for a moment.  
  
"Nat?" he asked softly, "Was it ok to tell you?"  
  
Nat nodded and told him to go find the hobbits.  
  
Before he left, Thom gave Nat a quick hug.  
  
"Don't worry, Nat," he said and went off.  
  
Nat sat in silence a while longer, thinking over what she had just been told.  
  
So the orcs were a real threat to this place and they couldn't help anyone else. Elves were supposed to be the protectors of this land, weren't they? Or at least, that's how Nat saw them. They looked over the people and the land, guiding them . . .  
  
**The time of the elves wanes . . .**  
  
Nat shivered.  
  
Those words her brother remembered so strongly . . . she did not like to think that the elves were not as strong as these monsters. The elves were wise and powerful! Nothing could overcome them!  
  
**I have no wish to lose any more men . . .**  
  
Elrond had said that, her brother was sure. What would happen to her and her brother if they broke through? Where could they go since she could not stay here? She knew that she had to find her own kind. It would not be long before these elves grew tired of her. And Thom needed to go to school. Somehow.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Okies, so how was that? Sorry it took so long, but it's just that . . . you know how you become so . . . procrastinator-y. I kept putting it off and . . . well. Thanks for being so patient, guys. :D 


	12. Coalescence

A/N: Again I have left it for so long, but I have been planning ahead with what I want to do so have no fear, I will continue this! Thanks to everyone for your reviews, they're very much appreciated. They are the food I breathe.  
  
*ROLL EYES*  
  
What?  
  
IT IS THE AIR YOU BREATHE, NOT FOOD.  
  
Did I type food? Oh. Heh heh, looks like I did . . . I'm hungry.  
  
*SIGH*  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Coalescence  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Nat and Thom, brother and sister, have come to the land of Middle Earth. In their search to return back to their world, they come across many different obstacles that threaten their relationship, and hope to return to the world where they belong.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was weeks afterwards, when Nat was sitting in the garden alone. Still thinking over the revelations that Elrond's meeting had revealed to her. Nothing much had been done so far, at least from what she could see. But she heard whispers from the kitchens... patrols came in and out more frequently and there had been raids only last week.  
  
Nat had seen only yesterday, an elf crying, clutching at her chest and heaving great, painful sobs. They had quickly ushered her away but Nat knew of her grief. That elf would have been sent to the Grey Havens by now. An elven kind of physical heaven, she had supposed when Elrond had told her of it. Over the sea and far away... Elrond had talked to her of the history of the elves. And of what happened when an elf was slain.  
  
She did not want to think of the elves as mortal. They were too beautiful... almost like guardian angels. She hated the thought that they would leave this earth and yet, it felt right somehow. They shouldn't leave immediately, oh no... but sometime in the near future, yes. She could see the pain of this world etched on some of the faces of the elves passing above her on the walls.  
  
She knew it was time that this world took it's own course without the guidance of their steady arm. They had done much more than what was asked of them.  
  
A rustle behind her made her turn sharply to find the elven prince, Legolas, looking slightly embarrassed.  
  
"I beg your pardon, I did not mean to intrude," he said, turning quickly.  
  
"No, no. It's alright."  
  
Legolas came around to the bench and sat down next to her. They were silent for a few moments, the wind rustled through the bushes around them. Nat was the first to break the silence.  
  
"What's it like, living forever?"  
  
Legolas turned and smiled slightly.  
  
"I am not sure many mortals would understand it, least of all you. But I will try to put it in terms you can comprehend," he said, obliging her.  
  
"For the elves, mortal lives are such as a blink of the eye, for your lives are so short. Yet we are to live for eternity, in this world we call Arda. We will not know death as you do, but we can still die."  
  
"How does that work?" Legolas' face showed no sign of emotion yet Nat felt that she was intruding on something close to heart.  
  
"Elves can die through mortal wounding, grief . . ."  
  
"Grief? How do you die of that?"  
  
"I am sure you have used the term "dying of a broken heart" before? For elves, it can be quite literal."  
  
"How?" Nat was persistent though she could see how painful the subject was to the elven prince. She could not help it – she needed to know.  
  
"Elves love only one person in their lives. If that love is unrequited then the grace and beauty of our lives fades as our hearts grow heavy within us."  
  
"You lose the will to live?"  
  
Legolas was taken aback but conceded quietly.  
  
"Yes, something akin to that, I suppose."  
  
The silence deepened.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Yes, ever curious one?" Nat rolled her eyes.  
  
"Has there been anyone else like me, from my world?" she asked him.  
  
Legolas thought a moment before shaking his head.  
  
"You would have to speak to Lord Elrond or perhaps Mithrandir . . ."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Boromir may have spoken of him as Gandalf."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Abruptly, Iluvion burst into the glade.  
  
"Nat? The patrols have found a man on the borders, calling your name," he said breathlessly, "Elrond requires you to come at once."  
  
Nat hesitated for a moment. For a second, her brain processed a thought of the possibility of this man being her father but it was quickly shut away with all the other impossible thoughts she had once dreamt promising.  
  
Iluvion grabbed her arm and pulled her after him in a race across the Halls to the wing she remembered only as where her brother had once been.  
  
They slowed down to come to a room only a few doors down from her brother's old room. Deep throated screaming could be heard, swearing loudly and in pain.  
  
Iluvion turned to Nat, cringing as he did so.  
  
"Perhaps we will wait a moment for my Lord to exit the sickroom. It does not sound pretty." The elf grimaced as another expletive hung in the air between them.  
  
"He was found by Elrohir on a quick scouting around the borders of our land," he briefed her as they waited, "He was found raving, bleeding from many cuts. He is of average build, blue eyes and brown hair wearing some strange clothing. Dark blue trousers of strange make, a cotton shirt and heavy leather boots. Does he sound like someone you know?"  
  
Iluvion paused for a moment but got no reaction from Nat,  
  
"He looks quite wild now, however. He seemingly has no knowledge of the area, as he has traces of a poisonous plant on his lips and his clothes are torn, his skin bloody."  
  
Nat's eyes widened as an impossible possibility knocked menacingly on the doors of her mind.  
  
At that moment, she was interrupted by several elves hurrying out followed by Lord Elrond. He closed the door to a "What the hell are you doing to me? You bloody aliens!" followed with a few profanities against the apparent extraterrestrials.  
  
The elf lord was sweating as he looked up to find Nat.  
  
"Ah, Nat. Would you come and identify with this man for me? Hopefully he'll calm down enough for me to treat his wounds once he sees a human face."  
  
He pulled Nat towards the door. She felt as if she was in a dream as she was drawn inexorably forward to the man wrapped in sweaty sheets. The grimy face peered up at her.  
  
"Nat! What the bloody hell are you doing here? Jesus Christ!" the man pushed back the covers to sit up, his face creased with pain as he strained muscles that had been tense for so long, and so fell back on to the bed, resigned to using his vocal chords to abuse Nat.  
  
"You know this man?" Elrond asked her.  
  
Nat couldn't let her eyes off the face she had dreamt of so often since coming to Rivendell.  
  
There were rivulets of dried blood on his arms and face with cuts and bruises littering his body as if he had been put through some kind of machine. His eyes were bloodshot and mud and grime covered him from head to foot. She dimly registered that he was still yelling at her and calling her names.  
  
"Can you calm him down?" whispered Elrond to her ear.  
  
Nat nodded without letting her eyes leave her father's face.  
  
Her father had given up yelling at her and was now struggling to get up. Quickly, Nat moved to his side and firmly, if roughly pushed him back under the covers and into bed. The sight of his naked body repulsed her and she felt on the verge of being sick.  
  
She reeled back from her father's slap and continued to hold him down and try to talk him into calming down.  
  
"Dad! Listen to me! You're sick! You need rest! Elrond will heal you, just calm down."  
  
"Get your bloody hands off me, brat! And where's Thom? You've left him out there in the wilderness haven't you? Gerroff me!"  
  
Elrond moved to the other side of the bed and put his hands on the forehead of Nat's father.  
  
"Take your alien hands off me, bastard! I want to see my son!" Gordon Parker began to swear loudly and thrashed about.  
  
"Stop, dad! Stop! Stop!"  
  
Gordon Parker stopped.  
  
Nat stepped back quickly as a concerned look crossed Elrond's face as he moved to check the pulse.  
  
"Coma," the elf muttered. Nat hadn't realised she was holding her breath.  
  
"Too much stress, alcohol perhaps? Maybe. Too much . . ." the elf began moving about the bed quickly, keeping his back turned to Nat so she couldn't see what his hands were doing.  
  
"Nat?" he called over his shoulder, "On your way out, tell Iluvion to find some helpers for me. Then you can go tell your brother that we've found your father. Come back in an hour and I'll be able tell you how he is."  
  
Nat found her feet obeying him and before she could answer him, she found herself outside the room with the door firmly closed behind her.  
  
Seeing Iluvion, she told him to fetch the helpers and then hurried off to find Thom.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She found Thom sitting with Boromir in the Hall. They were playing some kind of game that looked vaguely like chess.  
  
Thom grinned as he looked up, seeing his sister with a worried face.  
  
"What's wrong, grumble bum?" he asked her cheekily. Boromir only raised an eyebrow at her and swept the board clean of the playing pieces.  
  
"A five year old beginner is beating me at my own game!" he exclaimed haughtily. Thom just grinned, ecstatic at his new found skill.  
  
"Thom? Can I speak with you for a moment?" Nat asked, pointedly, "Alone, if that were possible."  
  
Boromir shrugged and walked to the doors.  
  
Nat knelt down to come eye to eye with the serious expression that had suddenly come over her brother's face.  
  
He crossed his arms as she began to try to straighten his small robes. Nat sighed.  
  
"Thom, dad's here."  
  
"Is that it?" Thom asked. Nat nodded miserably.  
  
"He wants to see you, if that's ok." The boy shrugged but Nat saw the fear that swept into his eyes.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll be there with you. You don't need to say anything and you can leave anytime. Dad's very sick, you know."  
  
"I don't want to see him!"  
  
At that moment, Boromir stuck his head through the door.  
  
"See who?"  
  
"Go away!" shouted Nat angrily at the same time Thom whispered, "Dad".  
  
Boromir withdrew immediately and disappeared back into the garden.  
  
"Thom?" Nat asked, shaking the boy slightly, "We have to go back soon... you don't have to worry. He shouldn't even be conscious for most of it."  
  
Iluvion came in at that moment, slightly flushed.  
  
"Nat? Thom needs to come. Your father may die... his wishes need to be respected." Iluvion gave a slight nod before rushing off after another errand Elrond had charged him with.  
  
Nat gave Thom a sympathetic look and took his hand, giving it a tight squeeze before leading the way back into the sickroom.  
  
As they entered there was an eerie silence surrounding them as they watched Elrond sit by their father and take his hand.  
  
"He will sleep long. With all hope, he may live. But you might want to stay with him for a while... just in case," Elrond turned and regarded them both with his even appraisal, "I know he was not the... best of fathers, but he is your father."  
  
With that, they were left alone.  
  
The figure on the bed moved. The other occupants of the room stood there, staring at the man they had hated all their life. The man groaned slightly in his pain. It was weird knowing that there was someone who directly influenced your life lying motionless while you simply stood by, watching and waiting.  
  
Thom wanted to fidget but he couldn't tear his eyes off his father. He was overwhelmed with the strangest of emotions coursing through his body. It was his dad lying there... and for the few months or so, he had firmly followed his sister in believing this man was a monster, hating him. Now that he saw him however...  
  
Nat was struggling inwardly too. At once she had wanted to strangle the man, the murderer but was held back by the fact that this man was her father.  
  
She hated herself for being so weak, all those lessons and still she could not harden her heart. She narrowed her eyes at the bed and gradually turned away to look out the window, still holding her brother's hand tightly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Phew! Sorry it's been so long guys! But don't worry; I'll have the next chapter up soon! I promise!  
  
*SNORTS*  
  
I will! May giant mutated dogs ridden by mutant 10-foot cockroaches stampede me and tear me limb from limb if I don't.  
  
VERY WELL THEN  
  
No, wait! It was just an expression! I didn't mean it!  
  
*LOOKS AT AMAN WHILE HOLDING LEASHES TO GIANT MUTATED DOGS*  
  
Gyah! *opens up word and types furiously* 


	13. Developments

A/N: Oh, this is just not fair! School is really getting to me and though I know exactly how I want this to turn out, it's been hard for me to get it onto paper... erm, Word. -:is stampeded by giant mutated dogs ridden by ten foot cockroaches:- What about the tearing limb from limb part?  
  
OH BUT THEN YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO FINISH THE STORY, THEN.  
  
Oh, right. Makes sense I guess. gets up wearily. Oh, look! An editing feature.. plays around. Hang on! My asterix's are gone! No!  
  
And so:

* * *

Title: A Place Of Her Own  
  
Chapter: Developments  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Nat and Thom, brother and sister, have come to the land of Middle Earth. In their search to return back to their (well, our) world, they come across many different obstacles that threaten their relationship, and hope to return to the world where they belong.

* * *

For some reason, Gordon Parker held on, and Nat resented him for it. She wanted him to die so she could get on with her life. To be able to forget about him and be able to live with her brother without the fears of him that gripped her.  
  
For days they would come and sit by the bed, watching the man's breath grow shallower and shallower until a racking cough came over him, which returned him to the heavy breathing. A cycle that seemed to continue forever, taunting them with death.  
  
The room stunk of it. Death lingered like a vulture circling down onto the carcass of an animal that had wandered too far into the desert. The death that shadowed her father's face – that wasted his body so quickly. The burly man she had thought to find was so far away from the man in the bed, his cuts never healing because of his constant fits of rage. So that the blood would drip into the sheets and onto the pillow, staining them. Life slowed for the siblings. They never left each other's side and when they ventured from the room, pain and confusion was clearly etched on each face. The elves watched them and said nothing.  
  
Each day was a struggle for Boromir, as they were due to leave any moment now. Time had passed so quickly and every time he had tried to tell Nat she hadn't heard him. The hobbits had even tried to tell Thomas but he, like his sister, heard nothing except the harsh breathing of his father, echoing his thoughts and punctuating the sentences he spoke.  
  
They ate little and would not laugh, though their friend's tried. Nat still practised the knives and her bow and arrow, but whatever she gained in skill did not give her joy.  
  
"A sickness of the liver," Elrond had said, "He has drunk so much alcohol in his lifetime that the past two weeks have been a slow agony. His body cannot cope without alcohol anymore and so is suffering withdrawal though, thankfully now, the cancer eating at his liver has stopped."  
  
He would heal.  
  
Nat had known her father had been drinking heavily for the last... oh, ten years or perhaps even longer. Liver cancer would have been just waiting to happen. Too bad it had got to him before she had.  
  
But then, maybe it hadn't. Elrond had healed her brother's legs... perhaps he would heal this? No. He would know that it would just be a waste of energy. Gordon Parker would be dead before he could cross the room.  
  
Nat smiled to herself darkly and continued to watch her father lie motionless under the covers. She entertained the idea of smothering him now, but she wanted him to know it was her, Nat, his daughter. She wanted to see the terror, the realisation in his face that it was her, her hate and his stupidity that would drive him from this world and into the next.  
  
His eyelids flickered.  
  
"Thom, get out now." Nat did not want her brother to see this.  
  
"No, I want to stay," said Thom, not letting his eyes leave his father's face.  
  
"Leave, Thom!"  
  
"Thomas? Is that what they called my boy?" Gordon Parker was awake, though still quite groggy and Nat could not, would not do a thing while her brother was in the room.  
  
"Such bad dreams... You were hurt Natalie, but you kept pushing on and then you were gone. I didn't know what to do... I wanted to... hurt you." The man's eyes widened.  
  
Nat rolled her eyes at the rambling, bloody man in the crusty sheets.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Nat," the cracked lips whispered, "I never meant to hurt you."  
  
Nat lifted her eyebrow coolly at the tear-streaked face in the bed.  
  
"You never hurt me."  
  
"... Never meant to hurt you, Nat... it was the drink, it-it-it drove me mad! Believe me, I would never..."  
  
"You didn't hurt me. You killed me." Gordon tried to struggle upright.  
  
"... Never hurt you, never never. Or your brother – good kid, Thom. You were both such good kids... I was such a terrible father to you both."  
  
Nat looked at him in horror.  
  
"I'll try to do better, I know I can be better... I'll take you to the movies and..."  
  
Nat lost it.  
  
"You drowned my sister!" screamed Nat.  
  
"Sister, you...? But... it...it was the drink... and that strange man who came to me... he..." Nat's father's voice trailed away to silence.  
  
"Don't you dare try to make excuses! You killed her, you killed her, and you... killed... her!" Nat struck out at her father.  
  
"Sister?" whispered Thom from the corner, he shook like a leaf as he watched his older sister fight out against his father.  
  
"I hate you! You destroyed my life! I hate you, you bastard! I hate you!" shrieked Nat.  
  
Thom looked between the red faces and ran out of the room.  
  
"Now look what you've done!" roared her father.  
  
"ME? How can you say that? How can you expect us just to... to forgive you like that, just because you practically raped my mother and Thom's..."  
  
Gordon was silent.  
  
"I loved your mother. And Thom's."  
  
"Liar!" Nat spat in his face, "You grabbed whatever bitch you could find."  
  
Gordon's arm came up with surprising speed and accuracy.  
  
"I loved her. You will not talk about her like that." The man's eyes seemed to have a spark of inteeligence about them for a moment.  
  
"Why? You did."  
  
They both stared into each other's eyes. Their expressions mirrored, their eyes were both a crystal blue that cut into the other pair, their jaws set and lips turned back in a barely suppressed snarl.  
  
Iluvion burst into the room and dragged Nat out into the corridor.  
  
"What do you think you were doing?" he hissed angrily, "Thom's distraught and crying all over Lord Elrond's lap! Elrond's going to have fit over the way you've aggravated the patient and..."  
  
"The patient can go to hell! I'm done with this. I need to get out," Nat whispered back to him, "I can't stay here, it's driving me mad... I could have killed him!"  
  
Iluvion's eyebrows knotted together.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"That... my father."  
  
"Your father? But he is – "  
  
Nat gave Iluvion a look that allayed his doubts.  
  
"Perhaps..." muttered Iluvion.  
  
"What?"  
  
"There is a man of the Dunedain staying with us. Elrond had arranged for you to go out on a scouting trip with him later this month, maybe he could take you earlier."  
  
"I'm not leaving my brother."  
  
"Yes, you are. He is in good hands here."  
  
"I've no doubt of your hands but what about my dad's? I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."  
  
"You might not have been able to trust him earlier but I assure you that eye has been cast from him."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Erm... I would say the influence of the drink was to blame, as well as some strange poison has been making him act... out of sorts lately."  
  
"Lately?"  
  
"Then for a number of years."  
  
"You've got that right." Nat slumped against a wall and turned to look into Iluvion's worried eyes.  
  
"I would have killed him, Iluvion. I was just waiting to..." she lifted her shaking hands up to her face.  
  
Iluvion took her into a swift hug, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she buried her head into his shoulder.  
  
"You do not have a murderer in you, Nat," he told her gently, letting her tears soak into his coat.  
  
"Yes, I do, I do... I was about to wring his neck with my bare hands when you came in. My thoughts were..."  
  
"You do not have a murderer in you, Nat," he told her again.  
  
Nat sobbed heavily, letting her body wrack with the grief that she had kept so tightly bottled up for the last week or more. It had slowly built up - the hate, the anger, the hopelessness... the pain.  
  
They stood there until Nat slowly calmed down and clung to Iluvion for dear life. Iluvion rubbed her back gently as Nat sniffled and leaned against him, like she wanted to be swallowed up by the world.  
  
"Do not feel so angry with yourself."  
  
"He killed my sister, you know."  
  
"I know."  
  
"And he broke Thom's legs."  
  
"I know."  
  
"He nearly raped me on my birthday last year."  
  
"I know."  
  
Nat drew back from Iluvion who studied her carefully. His shoulder was wet and his eyes seemed raw as if he had shared in her pain. She smiled weakly.  
  
"I really need to get out of here, Iluvion. I can't just..."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll organise something." Iluvion led her to her room and tucked her into bed carefully.  
  
"You sleep for a while and you can leave in the morning."  
  
"What about Thom?"  
  
"I'll look after Thom, don't you worry."  
  
"Thank you," she said seriously.  
  
Iluvion smiled and drew the curtains, letting the room be covered in darkness.  
  
"Sleep soundly, I'll wake you when we're ready."  
  
Boromir was waiting impatiently outside as Iluvion shut the door quietly behind him.  
  
"What is wrong with her?"  
  
"She is feeling a little unwell," Iluvion told Boromir curtly, "And I wish you would put your voice down a little."  
  
"Your shoulder is wet, has she hurt herself?" asked Boromir in a now furious whisper.  
  
"No, at least, not physically. Just shaken, I would say."  
  
"Shaken? What do you mean?" Boromir took Iluvion's arm and tried to steer him into an alcove.  
  
"Excuse me," Iluvion muttered, and shook off the man's hand deftly. Turning quickly, he headed away to the kitchens.  
  
"Where are you going, elf? You didn't answer my question!" yelled Boromir, forgetting to whisper.  
  
Boromir scowled to himself and then pushed into a run to catch up with the swift elf. If Nat had been crying – which he had to admit, was pretty improbable – then he needed to know about it.  
  
Drawing level with Iluvion, Boromir slowed to a brisk walk but remained silent as his companion gave him a haughty stare. Iluvion pushed ahead, walking a little faster. Boromir ground his teeth and picked up the pace. By the time they were at the kitchens both were puffing and red-faced while trying to maintain dignity in front of the kitchen hands.  
  
Iluvion gave a haughty sniff before addressing the wide-eyed crowd.  
  
"I was wondering if you could be so kind as to prepare some meals for the next week or more for a scouting trip –"  
  
"What scouting trip?" interjected Boromir, much refreshed after a long draught of wine given to him by one of the throng.  
  
"None of your business," mumbled Iluvion under his breath before continuing, "perhaps a hamper for the first day and rations for the rest of the fortnight."  
  
"You just said a week!" exclaimed Boromir as the kitchen's head chef nodded obligingly.  
  
"Or more. Now if you would please excuse me?"  
  
The pair comically made their way across the yard before coming to stop outside an open veranda. Each one pushed ahead to get in first, resulting in the two getting stuck between the railings before they both pushed through with a little 'Oof'.  
  
Iluvion blessed Boromir with another death glare before turning to the bemused elf sitting at a table holding what appeared to be a large roll of cloth.  
  
"Grelad, may I ask a favour of you?" the guard asked as the human beside it jostled to get in.  
  
"Of course, what is it?"  
  
"I have a friend of feminine nature who will need travelling clothes..."  
  
There was the briefest of silences where nearly everything stood still.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
Iluvion winced delicately as 200 decibels, plus 5 grams of spit that were hanging on for a ride, roared straight into his ear.  
  
"I can have it ready by tomorrow," said the elf seated at the table, ignoring the look of righteous anger on Boromir's face for being so cheerfully ignored.  
  
"Thank you, Grelad."  
  
Iluvion turned and waited for Boromir to move. Moments later they were on their way back through the yard, heading for yet another unknown destination.  
  
"So you're packing her off." The low, simmering voice did not indicate that it was a question.  
  
"If that's how you must put it, yes I am. I'm 'packing her off' as you said, so that she can breathe some fresh air."  
  
"What about her brother? Does she know your doing this?"  
  
"Her brother will remain with me until she, or if she returns and yes, Nat actually asked if she could get 'packed off'."  
  
"She did?" Boromir said incredulously.  
  
"Her father's appearance has caused her much undue stress. It will be good for her to get away from Rivendell for a while. I fear she needs a challenge."  
  
"You fear? If she is to be gone for more than a week, I shall not see her until I return."  
  
"You leave so soon?"  
  
"Yes, we are to depart on the twenty fifth."  
  
"Only two months since the council... has the time passed so quickly? I am thinking it would be to take advantage of the summer while you still can?"  
  
"Yes. But what of Natalie's little sojourn? Where would she go? And with whom?"  
  
"One of the Dunedain rangers is staying here in Rivendell and has agreed to take her on a scouting trip."  
  
"Does he know of how soon?"  
  
"He shall."  
  
"You tread on thin ice, friend. What of the dangers of the orcs?"  
  
"Orcs would not travel so far and so deep into the lands of Arnor."  
  
"Have a care, Iluvion! How deep do you propose to take her?"  
  
Iluvion did not answer but started to ascend up some stairs into a compound that was a fair way from where Boromir was standing. Boromir once again ground his teeth and followed. He would be damned if he let his Nat go with some stranger if at all.

* * *

Ah! It's late, late, late and I have homework due tomorrow and.... Ah, stuff it. This comes first. There are a lot of short snappy sentences in this – not much description but a lot of talking. Too much, I think. But tell me what you think and maybe I might redo the chapter or something... till next time (however long that takes... I hate school, if only I was finished with it). And I need a better chapter title... 


	14. Respite

A Place Of Her Own

Chapter 14: Respite

A/N: Wah! Really, really, really, really sorry! Shaitan hasn't been doing his job properly and has been making me study

MATHS! WHIPCRACK NOW!

So.. hard! It's not fair. Also have recently begun a job (yay! Finally) and VCE studies have been catching up on me. I'm at the time where effort is needed. As well as my loss of interest in hotties. sob I don't know what's wrong with me! One day I'd wake up to Orlando Bloom on my ceiling and sigh with happiness and the next... I don't know. He's pretty but I just don't have any obsession! I am empty! Have so far been trying to fill void with manga/anime. Not working.

All right, let's get this thing on the road before I leave for Queenscliff and get into a major study spree.

(SHAITAN SNORTS IN BG)

* * *

The Ranger was crouched in the garden, one hand steading him, the other held up to his head. Iluvion and Boromir stopped short to observe the man.

"You're going to trust her with this maniac?" whispered Boromir.

"My Lord assured me he was one of the best... even to rival Aragorn."

Boromir snorted. It was not a feat he cared to think of as impossible.

The man slowly brought his head up and straightened from his crouch to face out over the valley. He unsheathed his sword and begun a series of offensive manoeuvres. His face remained calm as he moved swiftly to each position.

Boromir watched the man with growing admiration. At least Nat would be going with a Ranger who knew what he was doing.

Iluvion himself was a little doubtful of the man's abilities and the man's next few actions did not help.

The man begun to whistle. A jaunty little tune which his head bopped to as he completed each stroke as if he had some inner rhythm that only he could hear. A stamp of his foot punctuated his movements.

All of a sudden, the man moved out of his sword form and placed the other end of his sword in his left hand and begun to what Boromir and Iluvion would have identified as tap-dancing if they had ever experienced something akin to it on Middle Earth. Twirling the sword expertly in one hand, the man continued to tip his hat and whistle, again to some unheard music that could have only originated in the man's own insane mind.

Boromir was dumbstruck.

Similarly, Iluvion was thunderstruck.

And so while Iluvion was still smoking, Boromir stepped forward to introduce himself before the man got too carried away in their company.

"Err... sir?"

"Shhh!" hushed the man, still tap-dancing, "I'm not finished."

Boromir stepped back respectfully and hid his eyes as Iluvion stepped forward.

"Ah, you know that scouting trip with the girl my Lord talked to you of earlier?"

The man stopped so suddenly, Iluvion barely had time to step back as the man spun into his face, sweat droplets swung with him while the elf tried desperately to hide his distaste.

"Lord Elrond has told you of my mission?" he asked Iluvion suspiciously. His head darted to look around the elf at the puzzled Boromir.

"Luvion!!! Bor – bor – Boromir!"

The three all turned at once to find Thom struggling up the path.

"Wait up! I... I wanna say too!" Thom saw the Ranger stare at him expectantly and bravely stuck out his hand, "I'm Thom, who are you?"

The Ranger paused and seemed to try to look at Thom's hand at every possible angle before cautiously taking it in his own.

"I'm... Alexander."

"Cool! Teach me how to use a sword. Cos he won't." Thom pointed at Iluvion before turning back to Alexander and pouting.

"Stop it, we've already asked the Ranger enough, you shouldn't..."

"Nah, nah," the Ranger put up his hand, "I'll teach young Thom as soon as I get back."

"Where are you going?" asked Thom.

"I'm off tramping around as a guide to some mental..." Alexander trailed off as Iluvion and Boromir began shaking their heads emphatically behind Thom's wide-eyed face.

"Who's mental? What's mental mean?" Thom interrogated.

"No one and nothing that concerns you just at this moment, boy," muttered Boromir, taking him in hand. He shot a look at the elf, "I'll leave this to you."

Boromir and the boy began to walk off.

"Hey Thom!" yelled Alexander, "Call me Alex and don't worry about what I said earlier. Got that?"

"Yup!" grinned Thom as he was dragged away by Boromir.

Iluvion turned to Alex, appraising him as the man continued to wave goodbye to Thom's retreating figure.

"Well?" asked the Ranger.

"Elrond would prefer if you could leave... either tomorrow or the day after and..."

"What? I haven't any time to..."

"Prepare? All settled, my Lord assured me. All you have to do is accept," Iluvion told the spluttering Ranger.

"Well..."

"And I'll have you know that I don't care for your attitude towards Natalie. I..."

"She has a name then, does she?" mused Alex, "Your little princess, eh?"

Iluvion's tirade paused as he looked at Alex in surprise.

"She is not _my_ anything. Keep an eye on her, she is important for some of us here in Rivendell."

"How important?" leered Alex.

Iluvion snorted loudly before leaving Alex alone in a huff.

Alex grinned. Now if only he could find this girl. She'd managed to elude him for the last two days he had been in Rivendell. Usually he would not stay so long in such a large place but Lord Elrond's hospitality had left no avenue for escape.

* * *

Boromir was at a loss. He was stuck with Natalie's little brother with nothing much to do.

Thom begun to skip in circles, making the older man dizzy and even more confused as to what to do with his young charge.

"Let's play that game again!" shouted Thom happily. He was attempting to stand on his head.

"I'd rather not lose to one who is such a beginner and at least 30 years younger than me, thank you very much, Thom," said Boromir crossly, he hadn't been joking with Nat when he'd told her of his loss.

Thom sighed.

"Then what are we going to do?" he whined, surrounding Boromir with his pleading expression.

Boromir tried to take a step back but Thom was determined.

"Teach me knives! Or... or maybe... archery! Or..."

Boromir was desperate now.

"Erm, have you ridden horses yet?" he asked.

"Ooh! Ooh! Yes, please! Let's go!" shouted Thom again, literally bouncing his way towards the stables, dragging Boromir behind him.

At the sight of Thom, most of the stable hands began to form a line in front of the stables.

"That boy," said the centre elf, pointing, "Shall not come any further."

The ultimatum was delivered with a certain kind of finality.

"Boromir..." Thom tugged at Boromir's sleeve.

"Has the boy..."

"He has entered only once, and that one time was enough for us to be wary of him. He bewitched the horses! They..."

Boromir held up his hand to show he understood.

"Could you just bring out my horse, then? I'll give the boy some lessons in handling the beasts."

The leader of the stable hands nodded to one of the younger boys who ran into the stables to fetch Boromir's mount. The remaining stable hands kept an eye on Thom, starting at any sudden movements from the boy.

A few minutes later, Boromir hoisted the boy onto the animal's back. The animal, remembering their earlier ride pranced nervously on the spot while Thom held on. Gradually, he and Boromir calmed the animal down before leading it down the path into the clearing below.

They found themselves in the midst of a confrontation between the hobbits (who had managed to find some ponies that would take two at a time) and Glorfindel with his patrol officers. Boromir was about to turn back when Merry spotted them.

"Thom! Thom! Over 'ere! Let's show these elves what we're made of, eh?"

Boromir tried to hold the reins steady as the horse sensed it's rider's excitement.

"Whoa, boy. You're not going anywhere just now."

"But they need me!" cried Thom, and gave the horse a slight kick that made it lead out of the capable hands of the heir of Gondor.

An exclamation of surprise escaped Boromir's lips as he fell on his behind in the mud.

Merry and Pippin whooped as Frodo and Sam turned their mount away from the ruckus and into the trees. The elves themselves had been about to get impatient with the hobbits when Thom burst into their group, frightening their horses and scattering them in all directions.

Glorfindel muttered something incoherently under his breath as he tried to bring order to his troops. Before wheeling off to gather than up, he favoured the chuckling hobbits a withering glance, which really only helped to encourage them further in their unruly delight.

Boromir shook his head and gave the commanding elf an apologetic look before chasing after Thom who was still guiding his horse around the clearing, cheering loudly.

"Thom!" he called when he finally caught up with the boy, "I should tell your sister about this. Do you know what you've done? Offending Glorfindel and his retinue?"

Boromir reached up and pulled the boy of the shaking horse.

"Look what you've done to the horse! The poor thing's completely drenched."

Thom looked up at his mentor sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again. It was only for a bit of fun..."

Boromir felt his anger fade away as the boy seemed close to tears. He thrust the reins of the horse into the boy's face.

"Clean the horse up, have one of the stable hands show you what to do. You're lucky I'm not going to mention this to your sister... but I'd expect a visit from Elrond or Glorfindel today."

Thom hung his head as he took the reins and led the horse back up to the stables. Boromir had to smile in spite of himself as he watched the boy trudge his way out of the clearing. The boy had spirit.

"Hey Boromir!" Boromir looked up to see Thom waving at him madly, "Thanks for letting me ride today!"

Boromir smiled grimly and gave the boy a little wave before wandering into the woods quickly.

* * *

Iluvion had gone quickly to see how Nat was feeling. He found her still in bed, huddled under the blankets trying to hide from the sunlight that streamed into her room from the open window.

Iluvion went to the curtains and pulled them shut, mentally abusing himself over leaving them open.

He went to the bed then, and looked down on the sleeping teenager, swamped in the blankets. He gently adjusted them, and moved her feet back under the covers. Pursing his lips he straightened her pillows and then left her in peace only to return with some breakfast. He woke her gently, helped her sit up and gave her a glass of juice.

"Go away."

"No, you must eat if you're going to keep your strength up. Or have you forgotten that you are going on a trip tomorrow?" he chided her gently.

"Tomorrow?" Nat yawned before grabbing a piece of toast.

"Hmm. Well, you seem to be feeling a little better now, at least. Alex agreed to it."

"Alex?"

"The Ranger that will be taking you out into the wild for a week or so."

"His name is Alex? That's a girl's name. I don't want to go..."

"Don't be so juvenile. You should be grateful he agreed to take you – he's new to Rivendell and doesn't know elves very well, so we couldn't be sure he would accept."

Natalie gave a snort of derisive reservations before going back to her breakfast enthusiastically.

"Don't forget that you _did_ ask for some time out, and Lord Elrond has provided for you. It would be rude to refuse," Iluvion told her gently.

It wasn't fair, dammit. Why couldn't she just... Nat fumed silently and gave Iluvion a quick nod.

"Whatever. Where's Thom?"

"Thom is with Boromir, I believe."

An emanating shout from the clearing drifted up to their room.

"And that would be Boromir. I don't think he realised that Thom might be a bit of a handful."

"What got Boromir to take in Thom?" asked Nat, "Usually I have to give him a death glare to get him to help out."

Iluvion shrugged indifference and drew on his vast vocabulary by saying nothing.

"Do I need to organise anything? I hope you warned him that all I have are those dresses and socks," said Nat.

"Mm... all organised by yours truly so you have no need to worry. I'll bring up your gear early tomorrow morning – I have a feeling that Alex will want to leave before dawn."

"But what about Thom?"

"Catch up with him tonight at the farewell feast for the Fellowship."

"What feast? Fellowship?"

"My, you have been a bit out of it, haven't you?" Iluvion teased playfully, "No need to worry." He got up and moved swiftly for the door before Nat could get a hold of him.

"Hey!" yelled Nat, trying to get up, "What's with the...?"

"I'll see you tonight, Nat." Iluvion slammed the door sharply leaving Natalie speechless and frustrated on the bed.

* * *

A/N: How was that? Yeah? Sorry it's been so long. /bows apologetically/ Will try to get another chapter up as soon as possible over the next couple of weeks. It's just been so busy... reviews will help. Complete the circle... Read and... DOWN, I SAY!

/grins happily/ I am so glad that I finally got this up.


	15. The Night Prior

A Place Of Her Own

Chapter 15: Leave-takings.

A/N: Am in the middle of my exams, so don't you dare mention the fact that I've started doing this at near-midnight with a Geography exam in the morning. Fellowship was on TV tonight (with ads, no less) so I watched a bit and thought, hang on, I have a… oh crap! And so, without any further ado, I give you the fifteenth chapter.

…

And I continue this on the 28th December…::shakes head woefully::

* * *

Title: A Place Of Her Own 

Chapter: Night Prior

Rating: PG-13

Summary (for the chapter this time): Natalie has to say goodbye, but it's difficult to say it to everyone. Why is it happening so quickly?

* * *

Nat stared after Iluvion for a moment before pulling herself together.

Getting dressed quickly, she ran downstairs and into the kitchens to take a few rolls and some cheese before moving quickly down into the archery fields.

Drawing the bow, she brought it up to her cheek and held the pose before a heavy hand pushed her shoulder down and twisted her elbow.

"Not like that, don't forget that your arm needs to be aligned so… no, not like that…"

Nat adjusted accordingly and held the pose again, it was much more uncomfortable than before the alterations had been made.

"Hmm, you'll have to do, I suppose. I hope you're better with those knives at your belt than that bow in your hands or we may get into some trouble."

She turned to look at the man she had thought was Elrohir but he was already walking away.

"Hey! Don't walk away from me like that, a total stranger!"

The man stopped and turned dramatically, flicking his hair behind him so that Nat could get a good look at his face.

"Not necessarily a total stranger… but you are right, I am Alex and you should be more careful with who you let near you."

Nat blinked once, twice then took a step forward but by that time Alex had disappeared into the underbrush.

Nat scowled heavily and looked back up the path in case he reappeared but all she could see was her brother leading a horse back towards the courtyard and Boromir moving towards her, mopping his brow and brushing down his muddied pants.

"Nat!" he called, surprised to see her up.

Nat let out a shy smile as Boromir came up beside her.

"Taking care of my brother, were you?" she asked as she tried to draw her bow once more.

"Well, the fact that you barely trust anyone else, I was more or less stuck with him." Boromir lifted her arm slightly.

Nat adjusted herself to the new posture and was almost immediately corrected once more.

"I'm never going to get the right," she sighed, frustrated at her ineptitude, "Why couldn't I be a natural at this? Or at least the talent those hobbits manage to have."

She looked wistfully over the archery fields. In the distance, the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas was practising his own form, though it was starkly different to Nat's practice as he was able to shoot at the targets _and_ hit the bullseye every single time.

"Why don't you have a rest for a while and tell me about this little trip you are hoping to take with this Alex."

"You know of it? Does Thom know?" Nat sounded genuinely surprised that Boromir knew and for some reason, it hurt him.

"Yes and no, respectively. I can't say I trust the man though he has earned himself the title of Ranger."

"I don't care if you trust him or not, Boromir. Hell, I barely trust him myself. But he is the only way I can get away from this place."

"Why would you wish to do that, Natalie? I thought you were content to be here. You have the company, surely. As well as your brother. He is happy. You have everything you could possibly ever want here."

"Please, Boromir. Don't push me there."

Boromir said nothing, only watched Natalie struggle with her inner feelings.

"I'm so confused, Boromir. And I'm never going to be able to figure all of this out until I can lose myself and my past." The girl took a deep breath before continuing.

"My past is my family and I don't think I can bare them anymore. I love Thom, I truly do… but I can't stay here and watch as he learns to trust my father again. My father has changed from what he once was. But I knew him to well then and I cannot forget it."

"Cannot?"

"Cannot, will not - It makes no difference now. I know that Elrond believes that I will not accept my father at all but I am and that's what scares me and pushes me away from him even further. I trust my instincts and all my life they have kept me safe. All my life they told me to never get too close to my father and now everything is different. I don't know what to think."

Twilight was beginning to set in, and a cold breeze swept through the valley. Elves were slowly dispersing from the field and the trees seemed to lean in closer as the stars emerged.

"Stay, Natalie. Please."

Nat continued to stare determinedly into the distance, refusing to look at Boromir beside her.

"The Fellowship leaves in days and I do not know of when or if I will return. I would like to spend as much time with you as possible."

"You will return," Nat told him, but it was as much for her than for his benefit, "And I shall be leaving tomorrow."

"Then in case I do not see you again… I want you to know that you have become like the little sister I never had. And if something should happen to you…"

Nat blushed deeply and cut him off.

"Stop it. You know you don't mean it and you know that I don't take it seriously. So please stop it before one of us does take it seriously."

Boromir stood so suddenly that Natalie reflected for a moment on what she had just said and was acutely aware of how closely she may have insulted a man who had come to be the only other person she had been able to trust implicitly in this mad world.

"Boromir? I –"

"No, you're right. I'll see you at the feast."

"Boromir, I'm sorry… I've been so used to people joking around with me that I never thought…"

"Stop it," he said flatly, reusing her words and in his eyes completing the rest of the tirade. How could she have so flatly refused him? Dismissed him? He felt hurt and detached.

Natalie looked up to Boromir who bent down and ruffled her hair playfully before turning to leave.

"I just wanted you to know that I will always be thinking of you. I can't say I've ever felt as strongly about you than I have for anything else."

Nat sat alone in the deepening darkness as lights flared up behind her in the citadel and the sounds of revelry began to flow down into the valley.

Everything had seemed to catch up with her ever so suddenly; her father, Thom's healing, her friendship with the elves, her newfound skills…. Everything had come and gone so fast that to finally end here with her embarking at dawn into the wilderness with a complete stranger made it seem as if it was a dream.

This world was still so fantastical. No matter what she told herself, she knew she could never accept this place as her home but with no direction, she had no way of returning to the realm of the metropolis' and their capitalist hunger for growth. There was a magic held in this world that she had never encountered in her homeland. It was as if the very earth beneath her breathed like the concrete she had grown up upon never had. There was a vibrancy that surrounded her, that pushed her into things she would never normally consider.

This world contained a million and one adventures that the dull, monochromatic city could never emulate. The calculating ways that she had always known now seemed distant and faint. As much a dream as this world was to her.

A breaking twig made Nat swing around quickly to find Aragorn offering a hand to her.

"Everyone's missing you at the feast. I would not want to let them down if I were you."

"Too late," murmured Nat to herself.

"I beg your pardon, my Lady? I did not catch that."

"Uh, Lord Aragorn? Could you possibly grant me a favour?"

"If it is within my power to do so, lady, but whatever it is, keep in mind that I must leave here soon."

"Oh no, it's nothing like that… just, could you look out for Boromir for me? We just had a bit of a fight and I don't want…"

"Of course, Natalie. But now I think you need to chaperone your brother before a certain pair of hobbits persuade him to try a certain 'magic brew'."

Nat smiled and followed him back to the Halls.

* * *

Walking in, she was severely aware of the grass stains on her now damp skirts. She was shown to the guest table but instead of being seated between Boromir and Gimli, she was as far removed from them as possible, seated next to the old man, Gandalf and the elf Legolas. Her elderly companion did not seem to mind the new seating arrangements though it was evident on the elf's face that he was expecting to have been able to converse with the old man during the meal. 

Sighing with a strange resignation he turned to Natalie to offer some morsel of conversation.

"I hear you are to journey with this new Ranger, Alexander."

Natalie quickly swallowed the bread she had just bitten – too fast and was left with a painfully raw throat.

"Uh, yes, I am."

Legolas seemed a little disappointed in the answer but was not to be defeated.

"Where are you planning to travel? Towards the north?"

"I don't know?" said Nat hopefully.

"Don't know? Then what is this Ranger like? I suspect he has decided to make it a surprise. Well, we can't have that or you would not be prepared for the journey properly." He turned towards Alex who sat on the edge of the table, looking as if he'd rather not be there.

"Ho, Ranger Alexander! Where is your journey's end? Tell us, or Natalie will not have a thing to wear – expecting to go to woodlands and in the end, finding herself in the swamps!"

Alex looked at the elf darkly from beneath is brows, took a swig from the mug in front of him and mumbled something.

"Pardon, I didn't hear that," Legolas cried slightly louder. Boromir, on the other side of the table, had looked up and was watching the exchange with interest.

"Haven't decided yet," the ranger said curtly and turned to the meal that had been set in front of him.

Legolas sat back, his second conversation again in a dead end.

He noticed Natalie was once again, looking in a way at her food, similar to the look he had seen at their last feast together.

"Wild boar. Delicious, fresh from this very morning. You will enjoy it," he told her, nudging the arm that held her fork, which was hovering above the meat uncertainly.

She smiled nervously and cut herself a small piece of meat which she gingerly lifted to her mouth…

"Will you stop watching me?" she asked the prince, putting the food down, away from her mouth and turned angrily towards him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. But I find you fascinating."

Natalie blinked, blushed and went back to her food and had demolished half of her plate before realising that the elf was still watching her closely.

Groaning with frustration she stood up to quit the table but Legolas stood with her.

"Finished?" he asked her quickly, "Then you must be ready to dance."

At that exact moment, the orchestra struck a chord and couples began flowing onto the floor. Legolas took a hold of Nat's hand before she had a chance to step away and pulled her into a sea of elegant elven couples and pulled her into position.

"What? Why? Are you…?"

Legolas watched past her ear and constantly moved her in and out of the couples around them. His steps were getting more and more intricate and difficult for Nat to follow. Nearly tripping over her own feet, she found herself stopped by a hand on her arm and a cold voice.

"If I may?"

Legolas bowed his head and turned to Nat with a slight smirk.

"You are a wonderful dancer, Lady Natalie. I have no idea why you could not dance with me at our last meeting."

Nat could barely react and was given no chance to as she was swept into another, much easier dance with her new partner. She saw Legolas watching her and her partner from the side, with a twinkle in his eye. She made a face at him that let him know that she knew she was no great dancer but he simply smiled and continued to watch her closely.

For a moment she wondered about who her saviour was, but was too afraid to look p in case she knew who it was. Slowly, she relaxed and let him guide her around the room and for a moment, she felt as graceful as the elves around her, she smiled and let her head sink onto his shoulder.

The dance ended and her partner was gone.

Two, three, four dances or more later she excused herself back to the guest table but made a detour through the kitchens, grabbing some bread, a block of cheese and a knife and went outside to sit in the quiet away from the Hall.

She remembered the night she first truly trusted Boromir, laughed with him. She wished she could laugh with him now… How could she have been so stupid? So thoughtless and thick? A tear fell down and she wiped it away quickly. This was why she needed to get away. This was why she couldn't stay with her brother any longer. She was growing weak in this world. How would she be able to cope when she had to go back to reality? It was stupid, all this crying and regretting. She'd never had to think over her actions before because if you stopped to think for a minute, you were dead. Or worse. She hacked at the cheese with her knife angrily and tore off a piece of bread. Chewing it furiously, she let herself forget everything and focussed on her father down in the garden.

What did he think he was doing out of bed? She promptly forgot about the bread and cheese on the stone bench next to her and moved down to the courtyard below to watch him, to get closer. Then she saw her father stop and look to the stars.

It was so strange… he seemed to simply pause in time and slowly open his arms and close his eyes, as if he was trying to embrace the sky in one go. But in the end he couldn't, and he lowered his arms with a sigh of disappointment.

Nat tried to move around, to see his face but a twig snapped beneath her foot.

Gordon spun so quickly she barely had a moment to register his tear-streaked face.

"Who's there? What are you doing? Thom, is that you?"

Nat felt removed from her body as she slowly stood and came into full view for her father.

"It's just me."

He had wiped away his tears now, but it didn't seem to matter to Nat anymore.

"Nat?" his voice held a quiver of fear as he beheld his daughter, "You're beautiful… I never realised how beautiful you look in such a dress…"

He seemed to want to move forward to meet her but he held back. As if he was remembering the things that Nat never wanted to think of again.

"Nat, I know you can't possibly even think to forgive for the way I've treated you – I have no excuse. I don't know why I … I'm confused, Nat…" He staggered towards her.

Nat caught his arm as he fell, and pulled it across her back in an effort to keep him upright.

"Come on, father. You are still weak." Gordon Parker nodded weakly and let his daughter lead him back to his room.

…

Boromir chewed on the bread and cheese slowly. Watching the pair stumble into the opposite building, he thought over the events of their last night together. Perhaps there was some point to this night. He hated to leave Nat like this, but he did not want to face her again.

Heshould have been more understanding! He kicked himself mentally for his cold farewell. Perhaps he could apologise in the morning before she left. Perhaps.

Chewing the bread and cheese, he remembered when he first saw her laugh freely with him – with no sarcasm or reserve, just plain happiness. He had never seen her so relaxed as in that moment where she had allowed herself to laugh with him, to trust him. Except…

Dancing with her had been wonderful, if nothing else. Her body flowed so instinctively with his… By all the gods, he was missing her before she had even left. Why hadn't he been more understanding?

He sighed one last time and wandered down into the garden to be alone with his thoughts.

* * *

A/N: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Finally! I'll try to be a bit more quicker with my next update… A week? And then you can flame me at my journal or something. I hardly have any motivation if I think people aren't reading it… I know they are, but unless… I don't know. It's annoying. 

I'm not sure about this chapter, it's been a while since I wrote fanfiction. IT was getting near crunchtime with my studies. Everything just caught up with me this year. I ahve my last two finalyears of highschool coming up so it's pretty hectic.

Heh, for those of you interested in my personal life, my job is taking over my life, school holidays is completely filled with holiday assignments (Wtf? Why? It's _summer_ holidays here!) and reading lists for English AND Literature. I was crazy to do both…

_GREAT EXPECTATIONS_! 10 PAGES ON THE DOUBLE!

Not now, please Shaitan…

YOU COULD AT LEAST TRY TACKLING _EMMA_.

I'm tired... I'll read it tomorrow…

HMPH.


	16. The Window Was Open

A Place Of Her Own

Chapter 16: The window was open…

A/N: I am so sorry, it has been so long! Wah... enjoy! May be awhile before next update, but please be patient! I love this story; I'm not going to give up on it! It will be finished! Don't be afraid to nag, please! It'll be the only way I get around to this.

Title: A Place Of Her Own

Chapter: The Window was open…

Rating: PG-13

Summary (for the chapter this time): Loose ends need to be tied up somehow… and then a new beginning.

The window was open and the cold air was billowing in, the curtains flicked and wrapped around the bedposts of the nearby bed as two figures entered the room, one supporting the other. Nat readjusted her grip on her father, heaving him over to the bed, and lay him down onto the icy cold sheets. She pulled them over him roughly but in a well-practiced manner, tucking the sides in so he wouldn't roll out too easily. She grabbed an extra pillow that had fallen to the floor and propped his head up.

He felt her pause after she had placed the pillow beneath his head. He could feel her breath settling across his cheek as she watched him so closely. Never had he felt so close to this girl. Natalie… this was his daughter. And the laughter he could hear emanating from the courtyard was his son's. Daughter… son… never had he felt so alive. So content. He felt her pull away.

"Natalie…"

She turned and looked at him with a cold intensity, but his eyes weren't open and the impact was lost. She froze as she saw how hopeless he was, lying tight within the contrasting wrap of pure white sheets, the stubble of his cheeks grazing the blanket. He had some sort of lopsided smile on his face, one she had never seen before.

"Thank you."

He sensed that she was about to leave, but she instead went to the windows, and he felt her pause there, looking out onto the garden. He heard a sigh. A sigh so sad he wanted to call her to him and hold her tight – like a father should. Where had he been? What had he done? The window closed and the laughter was muted. He had lost her. Lost her from the moment he had touched the bottle after her mother had died. Why had he done it? How could she ever turn to him? He heard the doors to his room close softly. A tear fell and stained the pillow he lay upon, within moments it was joined by another. And another. And another. Until exhaustion overwhelmed him and the laughter below the window faded into a haunted dream.

Nat breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the doors behind her before a heavy yawn escaped her and she glanced up at the moon. It was late, and she had an early start tomorrow. She took a step towards her room but stopped. In her path lay the garden… Boromir was there. Did she really want to see him again? She turned to another corridor but looked back. No. Tomorrow was the day she would run away. Not today.

She turned once more and walked determinably to the shadow under the tree. Walking softly, she approached Boromir from behind warily, watching for any sign of anger at how she had previously treated him.

A sigh escaped his lips and his shoulders heaved as he raised a hand to his eyes. He hadn't noticed her presence, surprisingly. She smiled menacingly and stalked closer. She could not miss this opportunity. It was far too good to miss.

Boromir smiled behind his hand, trying hard not to laugh at the girl creeping up behind him. She seemed to think he had not noticed her there yet. He could hear her dress trail along the ground behind her, growing dirtier with each step over the wet, muddy grass. He could feel the wind carry her forwards, towards him, he tasted the sweet perfume in the air and could not help but breathe in heavily. He saw her shadow on the grass beside him, her arms raised high as she prepared to strike and whipped around before she had the chance.

Natalie squealed as he attacked her, hugging her tightly before she could even attempt to surprise him.

"You knew! You knew I was here," she gasped. But gradually let her arms settle around him as well as he continued to hold her tight.

"I'm sorry, Boromir," she said softly before pulling away quickly, "I didn't meant to… well, you know."

He smiled at her softly as the moonlight struck her hazel eyes, the echoes captured in his mind's eye. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead in blessing.

"Good night, dear Natalie, and good travelling. I will see you off in the morn."

Nat grinned uncertainly and rubbed at her forehead.

"You should try to shave one day."

"One day, Natalie."

She grinned again.

"Good night."

"Good night."

There was an awkward pause before Natalie moved past him towards her room. Boromir let his eyes close as she passed, inhaling her scent, and taking that last image to hold deep in his heart. Her eyes bright, her smile ready for him, her cheeks full, her hair wild, her clothes muddied and that ever present shadow of her past echoing her features. He turned his head upwards, glancing at the moon as he murmured a short prayer to the heavens for her safe return.

Natalie Parker had no sooner tumbled into bed than she was being shaken awake by a dark monster hanging over her bed.

"Up," it growled at her before she even had a chance to scream.

She stumbled out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it tightly.

"Picked this up this morning, wish they'd finished it earlier…" the man chucked some clothes onto the bed, "Boots, leggings, cloak – that's expensive, mind you don't lose it! Blankets…" he looked at her expectantly, "Hurry up!"

They stood there for a moment, neither moving. She raised a single eyebrow and tapped a foot a bare three times before he had growled and shot out the door, slamming it behind him.

Natalie quickly pulled the leggings on and tugged on the boots. They were slightly a bit too big but it would do, she thought to herself as she wedged her foot down the narrow opening. Once dressed, she pulled her hair back above her head and put it into a small bun, pulling it tight so it would not fall loose over her eyes. A snort alerted her to Alexander's presence outside the door and she hurried to let him in.

"I got your saddlebags packed already but we need to pick up some food for today from the kitchens. I'll grab your other supplies while you do that and meet you by the stables in five minutes. Don't be late or I'll leave without you." He turned abruptly and rushed down the stairs, muttering something about it being "late enough as it is without dragging a lass along".

Natalie graciously gave him a parting sneer as she rushed towards the kitchen. Rounding the corner, she ran headfirst into Aragorn, he held her steady as she nearly lost her balance.

"Careful there, Nat. He won't be leaving without you, have no worry." She smiled at him thankfully but moved on quickly before he had a chance to say anything further.

Another corridor and she passed Boromir's room. She glanced in as she passed but the room was empty, the bed still made from the day before.

She dismissed it and hurried on down the stairs, passing the early morning tricksters devising yet another way to separate Sam from his pots. She tripped into the kitchen, missing the step and hurling out a hand to stop herself, it was caught by the old man.

"Good travelling to you, child," Gandalf said indulgently as he handed the day's food to her with the other hand.

"Th- Thank you, sir," stuttered Natalie.

"Better hurry or he'll definitely leave without you," the old man smiled and nudged her back out the door.

She scurried back out, across the courtyard to where Alex was waiting for her. He was holding the reins of her horse in one hand and beckoning at her angrily with the other. She quickly took the reins from him as he scowled and handed over the food. He looked at her in surprise.

"What do you expect me to do with it?"

She sighed and turned to her saddlebags and put as much as she could away before turning to him once more.

"I can't fit anymore on, could you put in your saddlebags?" she asked him. He turned her so suddenly she stepped back a bit.

"Let me see that…" he took the food from her and disappeared on the other side of her horse. She heard him rummage through the bags, taking some things out and then replacing them, "There. All fits in your saddlebags. Shall we move on?"

Natalie just looked at him in puzzlement before shrugging and clambering onto her horse. Alex watched on, clicking his tongue in disgust.

"There are people watching you. How can you mount a horse so ungracefully?" He turned away from her, "Watch."

With one hand upon the saddle, he executed a short a leap from the ground and bounded straight into the saddle, winning a surprised whinny from the horse below him.

Natalie could only roll her eyes at this purported Ranger.

Alexander kicked the horse to a start and cantered down towards the gate. Nat made to follow him when she heard her name called out from a window. She looked up and saw her brother leaning over the ledge, waving, with her father holding onto him from behind. She smiled wildly and waved back. Maybe one day she could return and be a part of that happy scene… but for now, she had to content herself with just moving on to something else.

She looked away from the balcony and saw Boromir standing in a doorway alone. Darkness framed around him from behind, as if it was pulling him back into the building, away from her and the sunrise emerged from between the trees. The sun's light did not reach him however, and his face remained half in the shadow of the doorway. A glint revealed an uncertain smile and a lone hand was raised in farewell.

She waved uncertainly back, unsure of why he was not coming out to meet her. Moments later, he had disappeared, leaving the doorway empty and the courtyard bereft of life.

Natalie sighed for a moment before quickly spurring her horse onwards after Alex's rapidly retreating back. Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas waved from the practice fields as she passed. She hurried her horse on and caught up with Alex at the gate where he had stopped. Elrond stood there next to Illuvion and farewelled them formally.

It all seemed so quick, leaving Rivendell behind but as Natalie moved on into the jungle, she felt worries and uneasiness drop from her shoulders. She relaxed further when they exited the woods from the north and continued towards distant mountains.

"I wouldn't get too settled out here, just yet," the Ranger threw over his shoulder, "There are orcs about and plenty of danger to keep you on your toes." He chuckled to himself.

"Don't think I've forgotten," Nat retorted, feeling the daggers by her hips with one hand for reassurance. She was nowhere near as good as the twins but at least she had something out in this wilderness.

"Ah well, I wouldn't put it past you. These lands can be deceiving."

Natalie looked over the plain before her. The trees had grown sparse and few between, and the flat meadows before her promised many days of horse-back boredom and she had no little Thom to keep her company. She sighed heavily and nudged her horse behind Alex and let him lead the way north.

Right, thank you for baring with me! Please R&R, I feel like there might be some plotholes or something – please crit so I can fix anything up! Thank you!


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